


The Fire Burns Hot

by Lemons-Eloise (orphan_account)



Series: Defrosting Russia [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Consensual Underage Sex, Cute, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Feelings, Feelings Realization, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Injuries, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, POV Yuri Plisetsky, Polygamy, Romantic Fluff, Sequel, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Travel, Underage Kissing, Underage Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-01-30 22:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12663159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Lemons-Eloise
Summary: Hi, so I've started the sequel and it's going to be another slow development, and I'm going to try once again to post weekly or more. I tagged for smut, but it's not going to get sexual until the second half. Like the first half, this is going to be about the three of them and their developing relationship.





	1. Resurgence

_Yuri glides, a waif in December. He isn’t as waif-like anymore, but he still has a slender frame. He launches into his jumps with grace and ease, landing them with the same sense of aloofness. It isn’t December, either, though it’s cold enough to feel that way as he glides over the ice. He is completely alone for the first time in weeks, gliding effortlessly in the chilly air. When he breathes, he can’t feel his lungs expand. He is only left with a burning chill._

“Yura!”

Yuri is surrounded by warmth before he can lift his head from his hands, two bodies falling on either side of the bench he sits on. Lips press to his temples as he raises his head, in unison. Victor sits to his right, a hand on Yuri’s waist. Yuuri is to his left, a kind and reassuring touch warming his thigh. Before Yuri gets mind to speak, they beat him to it.

“Pirozhki, are you alright?”

“You snuck off early this morning!”

“Have you eaten breakfast?”

“Yura, do you want us to go get you some coffee from the place down the street?”

Yuri groans, shaking his head as he pulls himself up off the bench. “It’s obvious that _you two_ had enough coffee for all three of us. Will you quiet down? You’re making my brain hurt.”

Victor grins, cocking his head to the side. Yuuri mimics the action, cocking his head in the opposite direction. “You weren’t there…” Yuuri begins.

“... so we had to drink your share,” Victor finishes with a chuckle.

They are in an abnormally upbeat mood all day. They goof off during practice, attempting to drag Yuri into their play with teasing touches. Victor even goes as far as lifting Yuri as if he his skating partner, holding him at the waist tenderly as he does a spread eagle. Yuri’s face is beet red by the time he is let down.

Yakov has a field day, shouting at them. Yuri gets yelled at as well, even after shouting back that it’s _them_ , not _him_ who is fooling around. Victor chuckles as Yuri shouts back, Yuuri staring at Yakov with a confused expression as he tries to decipher the Russian words.

“Yakov!” he finally shouts, “can you repeat that, but slower? My Russian isn’t very good ye-”

“Shut your mouth, Katsuki!”

Even Yuri can’t suppress a giggle at the sight of Yakov’s red face, the way he balls his fists at his sides. Mila grins at the three of them from across the rink, and Yuri smiles back. He doesn’t launch himself into his jumps again until Yakov shouts louder, threatening to bench all three of them for the rest of the week if they don’t start taking him seriously.

It’s still new to Yuri- they way they are now _the three of them_. They walk home from practice, sometimes hand in hand, and other times in a tangle of arms draped around each other’s shoulders. For Yuri, it is still frightening. He finds it hard to fully trust the situation, to allow himself to believe that it’s real. He often replays his conversation with them that morning over and over in his head, willing himself to accept that it actually happened.

_“Together?” Yuri whispered, hands shaking in Victor's careful grasp. “But you… You have each other.”_

_Yuuri smiled softly, brushing a lock of Yuri's hair back and responding without a second thought, “does that mean we don't have enough love left for you? I don't think so, Yuri.”_

_Victor squeezed Yuri's hands, nodding in agreement. “You love two people, don't you? Why can't both of us do the same?”_

_Yuri exhaled slowly, tongue wetting his lips. “Are you sure?”_

_They nodded simultaneously, not a single doubt showing in their eyes. “Yes, Yura,” Victor whispered._

_And then, Yuuri. “We want to be with you. We’ve waited so long.”_

_“I-I’ve waited too.” His voice was hardly a whisper._

_“Then,” Victor’s voice was just as fragile as Yuri’s own, “won’t you be with us, Yura?”_

“The three of us should take a trip to Moscow,” Victor suggests as they prepare dinner together. “Yuuri has never seen it, and I'm sure you’re missing your Dedushka.”

Yuri nods blankly, hand stilling mid-chop of a carrot. “You don't have to uproot yourselves to take me. I can go by myself, you know.”

Yuuri chuckles softly, moving from the stove to instead wrap his arms around Yuri's waist. His breath tickles Yuri's neck as he rests his chin on Yuri’s shoulder, nuzzling. “I want to go. Vitya does, too.”

Victor hums in agreement, taking Yuuri's place at the stove and beginning to stir the soup. “Are you saying you'd be okay without us for a whole long weekend? You wound us.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, placing the knife down completely. “You two are so co-dependent,” he complains, though his insides are tingling with the feeling of being _wanted_ by them. Yuuri's hands squeeze his hips lightly, a warm kiss presses to the skin of his neck.

“Is that a yes?” He asks playfully.

Yuri sighs, trying to look exasperated, though he finds himself tilting his head to rest it against Yuuri's. “Whatever, we'll all go,” he concedes.

Yuuri grins into Yuri's neck, lifting his head suddenly and pressing a chaste kiss to Yuri's lips. It's succinct, so much so that Yuri feels winded after Yuuri pulls away. His heart swells up, a warmth spreading through his chest as Yuuri's chocolate eyes lock with his. “I look forward to it, Pirozhki.”

It's always been hard for Yuri to open up, to let himself feel safe. It had been a struggle to get to where they are now, and Yuri still has trouble being completely open with Victor and Yuuri. But, they always understand. They only ever take as much as Yuri is willing to give, never pushing him further. They understand when he pulls back, or when he seems overwhelmed. They never make him feel like anything less for it.

He feels safe, even if it's not complete. He trusts them with his heart. It's obvious that they trust him, too. They let him into their life, into their love. Yuri decided some time ago, that Victor and Yuuri were worth the wait.

“You okay?” Yuuri whispers, bring Yuri out of his haze. The Japanese man still clings to his waist, the loving expression not leaving his face. 

Yuri nods, abandoning the carrots to turn his body in Yuuri's arms. “Yeah,” he whispers, burying his face in Yuuri's shirt.

Victor moves to Yuri's side, pulling the smaller men close to him. Yuri feels a gentle kiss on his head, and hears one on Yuuri's. Neither of them press further, or ask what he had been thinking about. Neither of them do anything other than accept his mild affection, returning it without question.

Rain water and mint, sandalwood and salt fill Yuri's nose as he is held tightly, Yuuri whispering, “we love you.”

Yuri sighs quietly, nuzzling further into their embrace. He hasn't said those words since the night he confessed to Yuuri, though they have both said it to him quite a few times. Yuri can't repeat the phrase, yet, but he knows that one day… he will.


	2. Nirvana

Yuuri's hands grip the armrest on either side of him, his breath shooting from his nose in short spurts. He had insisted on sitting between Yuri and Victor when they boarded the plane, and had been acting strangely ever since. He shifts uncomfortably every few minutes, hands shaking as the knuckles grow white.

Finally, Yuri sighs, placing his hand over the one Yuuri rests on their shared armrest. “Are you alright?”

Yuuri flips his hand over without hesitation, eagerly threading his fingers through Yuri's. He breathes out sharply, nodding. “I'm okay, I always…” he laughs sheepishly, cheeks tinting pink. “I get a little nervous during takeoff.”

Victor hums before Yuri can respond, leaning over to press a kiss to Yuuri's temple. “Yura, you take such good care of our Yuuri.”

Now it's Yuri's turn to blush. He stammers incoherently, averting his eyes from both of them. “I'm not even doing anything!”

Yuuri's fingers tighten around Yuri's hand, squeezing gently. “Trust me, you are.”

The hotel they stay at this time is even nicer than the one they stayed at when Yuri and Victor were here alone. Without a cat in tow, they are able to stay somewhere nicer. Victor had even left Makkachin at home, after Mila had offered to come walk her twice a day and feed both animals. The room has a shiny marble floor and a plush throw rug. A round, king-sized bed is in the center of the room, with soft-looking sheets. There is a double shower and a large soaker tub in the bathroom.

The first thing Yuuri does upon arrival is flop onto the bed, sprawled out with a soft groan. Yuri places his duffle bag on a luggage rack, watching as Victor falls after him, catching himself enough to crawl between Yuuri's legs. He kisses Yuuri, chastely at first, but then his lips linger for a bit too long. Yuuri responds to the kiss, a soft sound filling Yuri's ears and making it's way down to his gut, and between his legs.

Yuri creeps into the bathroom before either of them can look up and see his predicament, splashing cool water on his face. Of course, he has seen them kiss in the past month. They have kissed him, too. But he hasn't seen them kiss _like that_ since the night he saw Yuuri pressed up against the living room wall.

Of course, they must find time for sex. Yuri isn't naive. He shares their bed each night, but never have they tried to touch him anywhere below the waist, and never has Yuri heard them pleasuring each other in another room. Is it possible they've been holding out this whole time for Yuri's sake? It doesn't seem plausible.

Yuri's thoughts are halted by a knock at the door, and Victor's voice. “You alright, Yura?”

Yuri freezes, staring down at his crotch to be sure that his semi isn't noticeable through his jeans. “Yeah, I'm okay,” he finally answers when he sees that it's not.

Victor hums, “then will you kindly open the door? My back teeth are floating.” Yuri rolls his eyes, twisting the door handle and letting Victor inside. Victor sing-songs a “thank you” as Yuri makes his way out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Yuuri is curled up on the bed, breathing steadily with his eyelids fluttering. When Yuri steps into the room, his eyes open for a moment, a smile painting his face. “C’mere,” he commands sleepily. “Let's have a nap before we go site-seeing.”

Yuri obeys blindly, climbing onto the bed and mirroring Yuuri’s position so that they face one another. Yuuri’s eyes have closed once more, but his hands reach in the barren space between their bodies to clasp onto Yuri’s. Yuuri hums contently when their hands meet, locking together tightly. 

“So cute,” Victor coos quietly when he returns. He climbs onto the bed steadily, trying not to disturb Yuuri. Yuri gasps quietly as Victor hoists up their hands, placing Yuuri's gently to the side. Victor lifts his hands as he settles between their bodies, guiding Yuri to move closer and grab Yuuri’s hands once more, this time, locking them on Victor’s stomach. 

Yuri blushes as he feels his close proximity to Victor, knowing full well that he is still at half-mast and pressing against Victor’s thigh. Victor doesn’t seem to mind, however, as he wraps an arm around Yuri to pull him even closer. A kiss is pressed to his head and then Yuuri’s as Victor sighs, leaning back against the pillows. He speaks as he begins a slow circular motion on Yuri’s back, voice soft and soothing. “I wanted you to know that we aren’t pushing anything on you because we care about you and don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Yuri flushes further, burying his face in Victor’s chest as if to hide. His heart pounding, he mutters, “what does that even mean?”

Victor lightly squeezes the small of Yuri’s back. “It means,” he begins, “that if you become ready for something new, you need to tell us. We don’t want to rush things, and we want _you_ to set the pace for us. Regarding things like the erection you’re sporting right no-”

“Shut _up_!”

Victor chuckles, moving his hand from Yuri’s back to ruffle his hair. “Okay, okay. I’m not trying to embarrass you. I just want you to know that you need to let us know if you ever want something like that… because we want to make sure you’re comfortable, Yuri.”

Yuri breathes out rapidly, nuzzling further into Victor’s chest. “Thank you,” he manages, quietly. And then, “I sleep in your bed every night.”

Victor laughs again, light and breathy. “I know you do.”

Yuri breathes out raggedly, huffing in the process. “So then how do you… When do you…” Frustrated, Yuri groans. “How can you _do it_ if I’m there every night?”

Victor laughs out loud, hand stilling on Yuri's back as he tries to contain himself. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Yuri’s face warms further, and he shakes his head. “Forget it, gross old man!”

“We've snuck off to your old room a few times after you fell asleep. Also, that one time you did the grocery shopping we had some time, and then that one day Yuuri and I had a shower together,” Victor admits, sheepish.

“You can just send me to the other room or for a walk, you know,” Yuri mutters. “You don't have to sneak around like creeps.”

“Creeps? You wound me.” 

“You know what I _meant_.”

“Yeah, I know,” Victor agrees. “Was it watching us kiss like that?”

“Hmm?”

“That caused it.”

By now, his erection has long shrunk, and his embarrassment has subsided, also. Yuri nods into Victor's chest, sighing softly when he feels Victor rubbing his back again. He manages to relax as Victor's free hand lifts his chin, tilting his head up. Icy blues gaze at him quizzically, lips forming a pout. 

“What?” Yuri whispers, barely audible. His heart pounds in his ears for no reason, his breathing suddenly quickened.

Victor presses his lips to Yuri's, warm and comforting. Yuri melts into his touch, expelling a soft sigh when Victor pulls away. “What's your favorite place in Moscow?” Victor whispers, still close enough for his words to warm Yuri's lips.

Yuri is silent for a moment, chin still in Victor's grasp. To bide him time, he kisses Victor succinctly. “Saint Basil’s,” he finally tells Victor.

Blue eyes widen as Victor hums softly, gaze still locked with Yuri's. “The cathedral, hmm?”

Yuri nods, shifting from Victor and resting his head on his chest once again. “My Dedushka liked to take me there a lot. We would stand outside, and he would pray.”

“Why didn't he go inside?”

Yuri sighs, remembering his grandfather's words when he'd asked the same question, himself. “Because,” Yuri breathes, “he said he didn't deserve to get too close to God.”


	3. Cardinal and Sweet

_”What do you pray for, Dedushka?”_

_His grandpa’s eyes grew darker, his mouth turning down as he pressed a gloved hand to Yuri’s cheek. “For you, of course, my Yurochka.”_

_Yuri pondered for a moment as they began to walk back to the bus station, slipping a mittened hand into his grandpa’s. “What about Mama? Do you pray for Mama?”_

_His grandfather sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out as a sigh that fogged the air in front of him. “Yes, Yura. Of course I pray for your Mama. I pray that one day, you will get to see her again.”_

_Yuri looked behind them, watching the cathedral fall out of his sightline. The colorful peaks stood out against the grey sky, swirling glimmers of light against a dark sky. “I miss her.”_

_“Oh, Yurochka. I miss her, too.”_

The breath Yuri sucks in upon waking is much too sharp, his hands fisting whatever is in front of him. His heart pounds as his eyes shoot open, scrambling up and onto his knees on the bed. His hands fist Victor’s shirt, and he is scooped into a hug before he can register the man in front of him.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Victor murmurs into Yuri’s hair, sending warm spurts over his scalp. Yuri can only nod, attempting to catch his breath as he recalls his dream over and over in his head. “It’s alright, now,” Victor assures him. “You’re safe here.”

Yuri swallows hard, looking down to see that Yuuri has rolled away from Victor and him on the bed, still sleeping peacefully. He is curled up in the opposite direction, chest rising and falling with graceful breaths. Yuri manages to collect himself, leaning back into Victor’s embrace. “I’m fine,” he assures him.

Victor hums, pressing another kiss to Yuri’s hair. “Are you sure?”

Yuri nods, subconsciously keening at Victor's touches. “Yeah.”

“What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing important,” Yuri replies shortly. It’s only as he shuts his eyes once more, picturing the vivid peaks of the cathedral, that he wishes he was lying.

The inside of the cathedral is lackluster compared to the outside. In sixteen years, Yuri had never been inside. After his first time, he doesn’t regret not seeing it until now. After the tour of the inside, the three men stand outside, staring up at the cathedral as Yuri had with his grandfather many times before.

“It’s lovely,” Yuuri marvels, neck craned upwards.

Yuri hums noncommittally as Victor wraps an arm around each of their shoulders. “It really is, hmm?”

Yuri feels Yuuri’s hand move across Victor’s back and onto his own, stretching to reach his waist and squeeze lightly. “I’m glad that we got to come see it together. I’m glad we’re all here together.”

Yuri exhales slowly, shaking his head. “Don’t get all gross and mushy now, Katsudon.”

Yuuri smiles at him, squeezing his side again. “Take us to your favorite restaurant, Pirozhki. It’s almost dinner time.”

So, Yuri does. They take a bus to the restaurant near his old apartment, the one where he and his mother lived for the first five short years of Yuri’s life. They sit at a rounded booth inside, close to one another. Yuri sits between them at their request, helping Yuuri to decipher the menu. While his speaking and listening has certainly been improving, he is still hopeless at reading, and Yuri explains the various dishes to him.

Victor hums after a while, an amused smile stretching his lips as he stares at them both. “Always taking such good care of our Yuuri,” he gushes.

Yuri blushes, averting his eyes and preparing to deny it, when Yuuri speaks softly. “Vitya, he’ll stop being kind if you keep embarrassing him like that.” Yuuri moves a hand down to Yuri’s knee, squeezing it lightly. “And I’ll be really sad if he gets grumpy.”

Yuri scowls as Victor moves in closer, crowding Yuri between their bodies completely. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you, I just like like to see you helping him. It makes me happy.”

Yuri grumbles quietly, “you’re too close. We’re going to look weird.”

Victor moves without question, giving Yuri room to breathe. A whiff of sandalwood and salt fills Yuri’s nose in his wake, and he shamelessly inhales it deeply. As he glances at Yuuri’s kind eyes, while breathing in that smell, something occurs to him. Something that might explain why he still has trouble believing that this is real, that they truly love him in the way he loves them.

Yuuri’s eyes are the color of burnt sandalwood, the visual epitome of Victor’s scent. Glancing up, Yuri sees that Victor’s take on a misty blue, like looking at the sky through a fogged-up window on a rainy day. Yuuri has a piece of Victor’s sandalwood and salt, and Victor has a piece of Yuuri’s rain water and mint. as the realization washes over him, Yuri has to ask himself; _where do I fit, in all of this?_.

“Yuri?”

He is brought back down to reality by Yuuri’s soft and stable voice, his hand squeezing Yuri’s thigh again. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Yuri scowls, nodding. “I’m fine, I was just… thinking. What were you saying?”

Yuuri doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t press any further. He points to the menu, asking, “what does this say?”

Yuri scans over the menu item, sighing softly. “Vatrushka,” Yuri reads. “It’s a pastry, with sweet cheese in the center. You’d like it.”

“Okay, I’ll have that, then.”

Yuri pauses a moment before advising, “get a cup of sbiten with it, too. They’ll make it either sweet or spicy for you, here.”

“Sbi...it...ten?”

“ _Sbiten_ ,” Yuri repeats, slower.

“Sbiten,” Yuuri breathes.

“It’s good,” Yuri says, nodding. “You’ll like it.”

“Which way do you like it?”

“Hmm?”

Yuuri tilts his head, dark eyes growing playful. “Sweet or spicy?”

Yuri swallows hard, his gut sinking at his own mental implication. He shakes the thought away, knowing full well that Yuuri isn’t implying what Yuri thinks he is. “Spicy,” he croaks, cheeks heating.

“You’re blushing,” Yuuri whispers, drawing Victor’s attention.

Victor hums, reaching out and tilting Yuri’s face to see for himself. “You talk about _me_ embarrassing him? Look how red he is, Yuuri,” Victor teases.

“I just wanted to know how he liked his sbi… sbiten,” Yuuri pouts.

“The two of you are _awful_ ,” Yuri complains, hiding his face in his hands. And then, muffled, “Absolutely awful.”

“But you love us,” Victor chuckles.

Yuri doesn’t respond, shaking his head in his hands. “Awful,” he affirms.

Yuuri’s laugh is low and dark, unnaturally close to Yuri’s ear. “I like spicy, too,” he murmurs.

It is at that exact moment that Yuri decides these two men are going to be the death of him, and nothing less.


	4. A Sense of Safety

His grandpa looks ten times better than he did three months ago.

“My Yurochka!”

Yuri has only just entered the room when his grandpa calls to him, and he immediately spins on his heel towards the sound of the voice. Dedushka sits at a table with a newspaper in front of him, smiling and waving him over. Victor and Yuuri follow close behind as Yuri dashes to his grandpa, getting scolded by a nurse for running.

“Dedushka,” Yuri sighs happily, melting into the embrace his grandpa offers. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you! Sit, sit.” Dedushka gestures to the chairs surrounding the table, and Yuri sits next to his grandpa as Victor approaches him.

“Nikolai, you’re looking well,” he murmurs as he hugs Dedushka, kissing his cheek.

“Of course, Vitya. I’m healthy as a horse!” Dedushka then notices Yuuri, twiddling his thumbs behind Victor. “Yuuri Katsuki, the maker of the famous pork cutlet bowl!” Dedushka booms.

Yuuri turns bright red, shaking his head and waving his hands in front of his body. “No, no! That’s my mother! I don’t… I don’t make them as well.”

Dedushka grins, offering his hand out for a handshake. “My Yura has said yours is just as good as your ma-”

“Dedushka!” Yuri shushes him with a hiss, face heating. 

Victor and Yuuri both chuckle, sitting down at the table. “How was the trip?” Dedushka asks them.

When Yuri doesn’t answer, Victor does, beginning to go on about their flight and how they went to the cathedral yesterday. Yuri finds himself tuning out of the conversation, glad that Victor has taken the lead. He glances around him; the facility seems nice enough. His grandpa sounds happy, and the other residents all look well. Yuri breathes a bit easier knowing that his grandpa is in a place like this.

Yuri is jarred back when he feels his grandpa’s hand placed over his own, where it rests on the tabletop. “Are you happy, living with Vitya and Yuuri?”

Yuri flushes; Victor must have told him that he has been staying there. Yuri nods, quietly assuring him, “yes.”

Dedushka beams, taking Victor’s hand into his free one. “I told you, Vitya, he’s really a sweetheart once he opens up!”

Victor locks eyes with Yuri as he answers, letting Yuri read the words he leaves between the lines. “Yes, he really is.”

“You were quiet,” Yuuri whispers as they wait in the lobby. Victor is in the bathroom, and they have already signed out after seeing Yuri’s grandpa.

Yuri shrugs, dismissive. “I wasn’t really.”

Yuuri doesn’t budge, placing a warm hand on Yuri’s lower back. “Did you feel weird with us there?”

Yuri shakes his head, sucking in a breath. He licks his lips thoughtfully, shrugging. “I’m glad you were there. Victor talked a lot and it kept me from having to.”

“It was strange, to see him here?” Yuuri phrases it as a question, but Yuri knows that it’s more of a statement. Yuuri already knows how he feels; he is becoming better at reading Yuri with each passing day. Yuri knows he is an open book in front of Yuuri, his every feeling exposed.

Yuri nods, glancing around. “It’s nice here though, right? He seemed happy.”

“It is nice here,” Yuuri assures him, affirming it with a light squeeze to his back. “He was happy to see you.”

Yuri nods, moving the slightest bit closer to Yuuri. The way Yuuri's face lights up at the subtle gesture makes Yuri's heart feel tight in all the right ways, and he regrets that Victor returns at that exact moment.

“Everything okay?” He asks, looking them both over.

“Perfect,” Yuuri assures him, clasping their hands together with his free one. “What's next on our Moscow adventure?”

Victor grins, pulling them towards the door. “We're going to the zoo.”

Yuri was mesmerized by the cheetahs when his grandpa took him here as a child, and he still is today. He stands close to the fence, hands fisting the chain-links as he gazes at the animals. They’re just big cats, really- they look much like his Potya as they lie out, yawn, and play with their toys. Yuri finds himself watching for quite a while, in his own little world.

“Are they your favorite?” Yuuri finally asks him.

Yuri nods, still not taking his eyes off the wild felines.

“The kitten likes the kittens, hmm?” Victor teases, anchoring himself behind Yuri and kissing the top of his head.

Yuri grumbles, finally pulling away from the fence and allowing himself the comfort of leaning back against Victor. He tilts his head up enough to lock eyes, accusing, “you’re being embarrassing in public, you know.”

Victor’s eyes smile along with his mouth. “Well, you aren’t stopping me.” Yuri doesn’t argue; Victor has a point.

“Want to go look at the polar animals? They just added an exhibit across the bridge,” Yuri changes the subject, directing his question at Yuuri.

So they walk across the bridge languidly, Victor holding onto Yuri’s hand and slinging his other arm around Yuuri’s shoulders. Yuri doesn’t think twice about the action, and they don’t seem to get weird looks. It occurs to Yuri as they reach the polar bears, that they might look like a family, rather than… what they are.

They still haven’t defined it. They are together, but without a label. They had said they wanted to _be with him_. It is enough for Yuri, without the label. It’s enough to hold one of their hands, sleep in their bed, and accept their tender touches. He doesn’t know what to call it, but he doesn’t need to have a name for it right now. He is content with keeping it a feeling.

Yuuri _loves_ the snowy owls. So much so that he gushes over them, hand covering his mouth as his eyes well up. “They’re so _cute_! Look at them!”

Yuri smirks, and Victor shoots him a knowing smile from the other side of Yuuri. “They’re very cute, love,” Victor agrees.

Yuri hums quietly in response, watching Yuuri’s eyes light up as he stares at the owls. Suddenly, he realizes why the older men had found it so cute when he was enthralled with the cheetahs. There is something special about looking at someone you love when they are in a state that makes you feel warm inside. Not the same warmth you get when they look at you lovingly, or in Yuri’s case, even when Yuuri looks at Victor. Watching him love something new, something he had never seen before, gives Yuri a different swelling inside his heart.

Yuri doesn't feign going to the bathroom to sneak off to the gift shop. And he _certainly_ doesn't ask the clerk to show him all the snowy owl souvenirs they carry. He doesn't spend fifteen minutes mulling over them all, trying to pick out which one Yuuri will like the best. Yuri doesn't pick out the intricate snowy owl candle holder, and he certainly doesn't get a jasmine scented candle to go with it.

When he returns to Victor and Yuuri, the Japanese man is still staring at the owls as if he might never leave. Victor grins, glancing down at the shopping bag in Yuri's hand. “Detour?” He asks.

Yuri sighs, leaning against the railing next to Yuuri. He easily rests his head on Yuuri's shoulder, sucking in hints of rainwater and mint. “Yeah,” he answers as Victor crowds them from behind, a gentle kiss pressed to both their heads.

“I love you both. I'm glad we got to come here together.”

Once again, Yuri's heart gets caught in his throat when he tries to reply. Yuuri smiles at him, impossibly understanding as he answers Victor for them both, “we love you, too.”


	5. Eyes of a Soldier

_Yuri sobbed, kicking his legs and slamming his fists into the mattress. His nose was clogged from an hour of crying, his throat hoarse and scratchy. Still, he wailed on, shouting unintelligibly in between broken cries._

_“Yura, please. Please stop crying,” his grandfather begged._

_Dedushka's hand was warm and comforting on Yuri's back, but Yuri still would not comply. “Mama!” He screamed. “I want Mama!”_

_“Yuri, your mama… you know she isn't here. You know that, Yurochka.”_

_“I want my ma-ma!” Yuri screamed even louder._

_His grandpa's hand left Yuri's back with a soft sigh, his weight moving from the bed. Yuri finally stifled his sobs as he heard his grandpa dialing the phone in the hall, trying to listen in on Dedushka's end of the conversation._

_“You must talk to him.”_

_“Yes, you must! He's crying, he won't stop crying for you!”_

_“You don't have to see him! It's been over an hour. Don't you care how badly he's hurting?”_

_Finally, there was a soft sigh. “Yurochka? Come to the phone. Mama wants to talk to you.”_

_Yuri jumped from the bed, wiping his tears as he padded across his floor. In the hall, he accepted the phone from his grandfather and placed the earpiece to his ear. “Mama?” He whispered._

_“Yuri, why do you cry for me? Don't cry, my sweet boy.”_

_The tears came again, wetting Yuri's face. There was a sharp pain in his chest, an emptiness that would become nothing but familiar as time went on. “I miss you, M-mama.”_

_She sighed on the other end of the line. “I love you, Yuri. Be strong for your mama, and don't cry anymore. You be my little soldier.”_

When Yuri wakes, he can't breathe. He struggles to take in a breath, his lungs collapsing as tears burn in his eyes. He scrambles from the edge of the bed, making Yuuri stir in the process. Yuri ignores the concerned calls that fall from his lips, stumbling from the room as tears start to fall.

The hall bathroom door is closed hard behind him, but not locked. Yuri falls to the tiled floor and stares at the knobs of the medicine cabinet, counting to five in his head over and over. His lungs expand once more, though he still can't take in a deep breath. His knees become wet with fallen tears, the fabric of his pajamas becoming soaked as he cries.

The knock on the door must be soft and kind, just like all of Yuuri's touches. But to Yuri, it sounds like an explosion. “Yuri, may I come in?”

Yuri nods with a broken sob before realizing that Yuuri can't see the action. “Yes,” he croaks.

The door opens without hesitation, and Yuri is surrounded by Yuuri's warmth before he can register what's happening. Yuri sobs into Yuuri's shoulder as he is pulled onto his lap, taking comfort in the way Yuuri rocks him softly. 

“It's okay, it's okay.” Yuuri doesn't console him by telling him not to cry, instead telling him the opposite. “Let it out, it's alright.”

“It's not,” Yuri whimpers.

“Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

“N-nothing. I'm f-fine.”

Yuuri kisses the top of Yuri's head, a hand moving to rub his back methodically. “You're not fine, Yuri. I've never seen you this upset and shaken up before.”

Yuri shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's frame. He clings tightly, one of the few times he has embraced the other man with such fervor. “I just want to forget her!” Yuri trembles, and is pulled in tighter, head pressed to Yuuri's chest.

“Your mother?”

Yuri nods weakly. “It would be better if I could just forget.”

Yuuri pets Yuri's hair, humming softly. “You haven't spoken to her in a while? Not since she left?”

Fresh tears wet Yuri's cheeks, and he's helpless to stop the sob that follows them. “A f-few times, we talked, after she left. She stopped calling when I w-was nine or so.”

“I'm sorry, Yuri.” His voice is soft and sincere, and Yuri can hear how hard he swallows after speaking them, as if holding back tears of his own.

“It's so stupid,” Yuri huffs, laughing shakily. “It's stupid and pathetic but I can't help it.”

“No, Yuri. No, no.” Yuuri adjusts them so that he can tilt Yuri's chin up, locking their eyes. “It's not stupid and It's not pathetic. None of your feelings could ever be either of those things.”

Yuri's lip trembles in Yuuri's hand, much to his embarrassment. “B-baka,” Yuri spits, with much less venom than he intends.

Yuuri smiles, pressing a kiss to Yuri's cheek. “I love you, too, Yuri.”

Yuri scowls, jerking his face away from Yuuri's touch. “I thought it meant ‘idiot' or something, not th-”

“It does mean ‘idiot',” Yuuri assures him quietly. “But I know that you get frustrated when you want to say something that you aren't ready to.” Yuri's eyes widen, feeling those chocolate ones see inside of him in a way he can't even see inside himself. “And it's okay, if you aren't ready to say it. We know that you feel it.”

Yuri's face grows hot, but he can't bring himself to look away. He swallows hard, taking a deep breath before whispering, “you both say it to me, but I can't… I want to. I just can't, yet.”

Yuuri's eyes are full of perpetual understanding, the corners of his mouth stretching into a smile. “You show it, though. And showing it means even more than saying it.”

“I… show it?”

Yuuri nods, humming. “When you wake up before Victor and take Makkachin for her walk, so he can sleep in.” Yuuri pauses, humming in thought. “How you got me that beautiful candle holder, all because you saw how much I liked those owls.” Yuuri takes in a deep breath, his words tumbling out in a rush-

“When you let Victor put on a sappy movie even though you hate them, when you make sure Yakov doesn't hound me too much at practice, the way you always make that tea that Victor likes to have when he reads, how yo-”

“Okay, okay!” Yuri stops him with his words, and then captures his lips in a kiss. He lets his touch linger, relishing in the feel and taste of Yuuri against him, before pulling back. “When I do that, do I show it?”

Yuuri's cheeks are a shade of pink that Yuri has rarely seen them, his mouth opened just the slightest bit. He finally nods, smiling brightly. “ _Especially_ when you do that.” Yuuri reaches out, cupping Yuri's cheek tenderly. “Do you feel better now?”

He does. Yuuri always seems to know how to make him feel better, even the slightest bit. So he nods, and is led from the bathroom by Yuuri's always-gentle touch. Victor rolls over as they climb back into bed, enclosing Yuri between them. Yuuri spoons him from behind and Victor holds him from the front, gentle kisses pressed everywhere they can reach.

“You okay, Yura?” Victor murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

Yuri sighs contently, releasing every tension in his body with an exhale. “Yeah, I'm okay.” _The two of you always make sure of that._


	6. Newfound Intimacy

“Skate with me, Yura?”

Practice is over, and everyone else is clearing off the ice. Even Yuuri skates away from Yuri and Victor, flashing Yuri a grin as he steps off the ice. “Have fun, you two!” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll have dinner ready for when you get home!”

Yuri locks eyes with Victor, who holds his hand out to Yuri as if offering him a dance. “Please?”

Yuri reaches out hesitantly, glad when Victor takes the lead. Victor hums softly as he grasps Yuri’s hand lightly, raising it just so on the side of their bodies. With the other hand, he guides Yuri’s up to rest on his shoulder before moving it down to touch Yuri’s waist. He helps Yuri to move with him, gliding them towards the middle of the empty rink.   
Yuri keeps his eyes trained on Victor’s, and Victor does the same. He looks open like this- vulnerable. His touches are soft and light, just enough to guide Yuri where he wants him as they glide. Yuri stares at Victor, mesmerized, until Victor leans in to press a kiss to his cheek.

The skin heats where Victor touches it, and Yuri knows his face is flushed as Victor pulls back. Their faces are still close- _so close_ \- and Yuri can barely manage to whisper, “what is all this about?”

Victor answers him with a kiss, first. It’s a succinct touch to his lips that warm him for a second, and then leave him barren and cold. “I wanted to skate with you.”

“We skate together every day,” Yuri answers, barely audible. _I wonder if he can hear how loudly my heart is beating_.

Victor laughs breathily, shaking his head. “Not like this, my Yura. I wanted to dance with you on the ice. I wanted to be close to you.”

Yuri quiets after that, letting Victor lead him around the rink in slow, purposeful strides. He begins to hum, a tune that Yuri finds both familiar yet distant at the same time. Yuri lets his head move to Victor’s shoulder, as if they are slow-dancing. He allows his eyes to fall shut, trusting Victor to have full control over where they skate. He breathes in deeply; he nuzzles further.

Yuri barely registers it as they glide to a halt, Victor nuzzling against Yuri’s neck in the same fashion. He can feel Victor’s breath, hot on his skin, as he murmurs, “Are you happy with us, Yura?”

Yuri nods, a ragged exhale onto Victor’s skin. “ _Da_.”

“We’re happy, too.”

They glide around the rink for a while longer after that, the only sounds echoing being blades scraping and Victor’s melodic humming. When they come to a stop once more, Victor gently lifts Yuri’s face from his shoulder. His blue eyes don’t drop their gaze from Yuri’s as Victor leans in, pressing their lips together.

It isn’t like the kisses they have shared before- it isn’t soft or hesitant. It also isn’t like the kisses Yuri has seen Victor exchange with Yuuri- it isn’t hot or needing. It’s passionate and loving, as if Victor is trying to show his feelings with the movement of his lips alone. Flesh meets flesh over and over, their mouths moving against each other’s in a way that makes Yuri forget to breathe.

Victor’s hands tangle in Yuri’s hair, carding through the locks soothingly. His lips don’t ease their pressure against Yuri’s, and Yuri feels his heart beginning to race once more. It feels _good_. It feels _safe_. Victor’s body moves closer, and Yuri can’t help but realize that they fit together like two puzzle pieces. He presses his lips back insistently, linking his arms behind Victor’s neck. 

When they finally break for air, Yuri pants against Victor’s lips. “Was that okay?” Victor breathes onto his, just as winded.

“Yeah,” Yuri assures him. And with that, he leans in for more.

Yuuri has dinner on the table when they arrive home. Yuri sniffs, looking at the unfamiliar dish on the table. “What is..?”

Yuuri chuckles, pulling out Yuri’s seat and helping him sit before doing the same for Victor. “It’s called meatloaf. It’s really popular in America.”

“Is that where you learned to make it?” Victor asks, taking a bite as Yuuri sits.

Yuuri hums in response, nodding. Yuri takes a bite, chewing carefully. “It tastes good,” he concludes. 

Yuuri grins at him. “I’m glad you like it, Pirozhki.”

That night, Yuri finds himself in the hall bathroom under the guise of taking a shower. Inside the shower, however, he lets his hand drift between his legs, stroking himself. He uses soap as lubrication, leaning against the shower wall and shutting his eyes tight. He remembers Victor’s lips on him earlier. Though it wasn’t a sexual touch, it was _intimate_. Yuri remembers the warmth of Victor’s body radiating onto his, the way there was nothing but love in his eyes as he gazed at Yuri. Yuri comes to the thought, white ropes streaking down onto the tub floor.

Yuri grips himself as he softens, staring down at his shrinking cock. Deflating, it looks like Victor’s. He’s seen it, of course, many times in the locker room. Flaccid, it hadn’t looked much different than Yuri’s does now- pale and pink, the head soft-looking and a bit lighter than the shaft. Yuri cups his package thoughtfully, wondering what Yuuri’s cock looks like. His skin is darker than his and Victor’s- is he darker down there, also? As Yuri rinses himself off in the hot water, he makes the decision to find out.

Yuri gets dressed in the master bedroom before making his way out to the living room, where Yuuri and Victor are waiting for him on the couch. Victor glances up with Yuri walks in, motioning to the space on the other side of the couch, next to Yuuri. “What kind of movie did you want to wa-”

“Katsudon,” Yuri cuts him off, not wanting to lose his nerve. “Can I see your cock?”

Yuuri’s eyes widen behind his glasses, and he chokes on nothing. Victor brings a hand over his mouth, clearly trying to stifle his laughter as Yuuri balks at Yuri. “ _What?_ ”

Yuri sighs, shifting uncomfortably. “I-I haven’t ever seen it! I’ve seen Victor’s, in the locker room and stuff, but… I just… I don’t know!” Yuri fumes, his face growing red as he realizes just how _dumb_ and _absurd_ he must sound.

Yuuri, however, relaxes at Yuri’s admission, nodding. He pats the space next to him, urging Yuri to sit down. “You just surprised me,” he explains calmly. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

Yuri obeys silently, sitting next to Yuuri on the couch as he fiddles with his sweatpants. Victor peers over, studying them. Yuri doesn’t let his eyes leave Yuuri’s crotch as his hand slips beneath the waistband, pausing for a moment. “You’re sure?” Yuuri confirms.

When Yuri nods in response, Yuuri pulls out his cock. Yuri’s eyes widen as he stares at the flaccid, brown shaft. It juts out from a small patch of coarse hairs, black and rough-looking. The foreskin covers both the head and the shaft, and Yuri can’t help the sigh he expels as he murmurs, “you’re uncut.”

Yuuri hums, rolling his dick in his palm as if to let Yuri see it from all angles. “You haven’t seen an uncut one before?”

Yuri shakes his head, eyes still glued. Though Yuuri is soft and this is far from a sexual act, Yuri finds his heart rate increasing as he stares. “How do you, uh… pee and come, if it’s all covered up like that?”

Yuuri doesn’t laugh at him, or call him dumb. Victor doesn’t, either. Yuuri explains carefully, “when it gets hard, the skin gets stretched and the head peeks out. So, that’s how the come gets out. But you can also…” Yuuri moves his free hand to the base of his soft cock, holding it in place as he uses the other hand to pull back the foreskin. The head of his cock is revealed, looking velvety, and lighter than the skin of his shaft. “...pull it back. So that’s how you pee.”

Yuri hums quietly, looking away with flushed cheeks when Yuuri asks him, “Should I put it away now?” When Yuuri is concealed once more, he puts his arm around Yuri’s shoulders to move him closer. “Pick out a movie,” he requests, as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened.

“We can can watch whatever,” Yuri mumbles, still averting his eyes.

“Hey,” Victor says suddenly. “Don’t get all cranky because you’re embarrassed. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Yuri argues.

“You are,” Yuuri whispers, sneaking a kiss to Yuri’s cheek. “It’s alright,” Yuri gets assured. “You can be curious.”

Yuri groans, burying his face in Yuuri’s shoulder. “Please, just pick a freaking movie.” And Yuuri does.


	7. Long Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm sorry for taking a while! I have up to chapter 11 written, but it's the editing that takes the time for me. That, and as some of you may have realized, I am actually primarily a kink writer and I have been getting a lot of requests lately. So juggling this, my requests, and omovember with all the editing has been time consuming! On the bright side, I've started writing chapter 12 just last night. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Yuri wakes in the middle of the night to Yuuri creeping around him, trying to get up from the bed. Yuri can hear the sniffling he expels clear as day, and he sits up immediately. “Yuuri,” he whispers, reaching out to touch his wrist.

Yuuri only shakes his head, tears streaming down his face as he holds a finger to his lips. Glancing over his body, Yuri is able to see that Victor is still asleep, and Yuuri must not want to wake him. Yuri nods to signal his understanding, getting out of bed and holding out his hand for Yuuri to take. When he does, Yuri frowns at the way he is trembling.

Yuuri keeps hold of his hand as they walk down the hall, the entire time until they settle on the couch. It is then that Yuuri lets himself fall apart, shoulders shaking as Yuri's arms wrap around them. “What happened?” Yuri whispers onto Yuuri's temple, leaving a kiss in the wake of his words. 

“My dad,” Yuuri sobs. “I was dreaming about him.”

“I'm sorry,” Yuri whispers, holding him tighter. Yuuri clings to him in return, accepting every second of comfort that Yuri is willing to give. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Yuuri shakes his head, burying his face in Yuri's shoulder. “I'm sorry for waking you.”

“Idiot,” Yuri chides. “I'm glad you woke me, so you don't have to be alone.” After a short pause, Yuri dares to ask, “does it happen a lot?”

Yuuri shakes his head, and then shrugs. “Sometimes. I just usually come out here until I calm down.”

“Idiot,” Yuri repeats. “You can wake me. You don’t need to come out here all alone.”

Yuuri sighs shakily, suppressing a sob against the skin of Yuri’s neck. “You need your rest,” Yuuri reasons.

“Shut up,” Yuri whispers, barely audible. Then, even softer, “I’m here.”

Yuuri holds onto him for dear life, crying quietly. “I miss him at the silliest times.”

Yuri sighs, knowing the feeling all too well. When the weather gets too cold, when the sky darkens before it ought to. The most asinine things trigger memories of his mother, and he presses a kiss to Yuuri’s head. “I know,” he murmurs. “You can talk about it, if you want.”

Yuuri’s body shakes as he exhales, trying to control his tears enough to speak clearly. “When I start missing home, it reminds me of him. I-I’ve been missing home a lot, because my last trip there… wasn’t a good one.” Yuuri pauses, laughing bitterly. “I worry about my mother and sister, but honestly, they are probably more capable than me. They’re so strong.”

Yuri falters, anger taking over at the sound of Yuuri’s self-depreciation. “You’re strong,” he hisses. “You’re always so strong.” 

Yuuri presses a kiss to Yuri’s neck, causing Yuri to shiver. “Sorry,” he apologizes, raising his head to reveal his tear-stained face. “Was that not okay?”

Yuri sighs, cupping Yuuri’s cheek with his palm. “It was fine,” he assures Yuuri. “Tell me that you’re strong. I want you to say it.”

Yuuri shakes his head, his cheeks flushing. “It’s not true, how can I say it whe-”

“It _is_ true. You’re strong, Yuuri.”

The words hang between them, Yuuri sighing at the rare use of his name. “Thank you for saying that.”

Yuri hums noncommittally, rubbing his thumb on Yuuri’s cheek. He still hasn't said the words, himself, but Yuri drops it. He's upset enough without Yuri's prying. “Is it alright if I kiss you?” He whispers, unsure if it’s the right time to do so.

Yuuri doesn’t answer, instead leaning in and capturing Yuri’s lips in a kiss, himself. It lasts for a while, warm flesh meeting warm flesh languidly. Neither of them hurry to move further or to end the kiss, simply enjoying the intimacy with one another. When they finally do break the kiss, Yuuri smiles, brushing Yuri’s bangs back. Yuuri stares, entranced, searching for something inside Yuri’s eyes.

“What is it?” Yuri finally asks, not breaking their gaze.

Yuuri leans in, pressing a kiss to Yuri’s cheek. “Nothing,” he assures him when he has pulled back. “I just love you.”

Yuri smiles, pressing his lips to Yuuri’s to assure him in the only way he can right now; _I love you, too._

Yuri wakes to an ache in his neck and back, and a sandpaper tongue on his cheek. He groans, feeling a heavy weight on his chest as he blinks open his eyes and grumbles, “cut it out, Potya.”

The weight on his chest is Yuuri's head. Yuri goes stiff and still as he looks down at Yuuri, mouth opened the slightest bit as he sleeps on Yuri's chest. His head rises and falls with each breath, his eyelids twitching. Yuri leans down carefully, gently shoving his cat away with one hand while brushing back Yuuri's hair with the other. “Yuuri,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Wake up.”

Yuuri murmurs sleepily, trying to burrow into Yuri's chest. “Comfy,” he argues.

“We fell asleep on the couch,” Yuri explains, thumbing Yuuri's soft cheek. “Potya wants to be fed. Let me up.”

Yuuri grumbles, wrapping his arms around Yuri’s waist and clinging. “You’re _warm_ , though. Cuddle me!”

Yuri groans, but shifts so that his neck doesn’t ache as badly. He wraps his arms around Yuuri, whispering, “you’re needier than the cat.”

Yuuri chuckles, leaning up to kiss Yuri’s neck. “Says the little kitten himself.”

Yuri’s face flames, something about the way Yuuri calls him that makes all the blood rush between his legs. He scrambles to move out from under Yuuri before he notices, but it’s already too late. Yuuri looks up at him with curious eyes, gently brushing his hair back. “S-Sorry,” Yuri stammers.

“No, you’ve got nothing to apologize for,” Yuuri assures him. “I didn’t mean to get you worked up or embarrassed.” Yuuri eases himself up off Yuri, fingers still threaded in his golden locks. “Are you okay? Do you… do you want me to do anything about it?”

Yuri sighs shakily, attempting to calm himself before speaking. “No,I… I’m not embarrassed,” he whispers. His erection is throbbing, and he wants nothing more than to have Yuuri take care of it. Still, something holds him back. A shred of fear,a glimmer of apprehension. “I think,” he sighs, “I should just…” Yuri groans quietly, trying to communicate in the way he knows he _needs_ to, if they are going to make this work. “I want you to… I’m just nervous…”

Yuuri’s face softens as he moves his hand down from Yuri’s hair to instead cup his cheek. “Tell me what makes you nervous.”

Yuri shifts uncomfortably, his thoughts bogged up by his unyielding arousal. “I’ve never been touched there.”

Yuuri thumbs his cheek, nodding. “That’s a valid reason to be nervous.” Yuuri pauses for a moment, lowering his voice. “You know, we can always try something that you might be comfortable with, even if it’s just for a few seconds. If you don’t like it, I will always stop right away, no matter what it is. You know that, right?”

Yuri breathes a sigh of relief, swallowing hard. “Then… Would you… Could you please touch me through my clothes?”


	8. Meet Him Halfway

The second the warmth of Yuuri’s hand cups his package, Yuri lets out an embarrassing moan. He immediately goes pink, turning his face away. Yuuri’s warmth remains on Yuri’s most sensitive spot as he whispers, “it’s okay, don’t feel embarrassed. It’s _supposed_ to feel good.”

Yuri huffs, but manages a nod, as Yuuri begins moving his hand slowly. He grips Yuri’s hard cock, moving his hand up and down the clothed shaft. Yuri bites his lip and tries to stifle any sounds, begging his hips not to rock into Yuuri’s touch as they so desperately want to. Yuuri’s hand squeezes gently at the base of Yuri’s cock, and he gasps audibly, unable to stifle the sound.

“Good, or pain?” Yuuri asks, pausing the movement of his hand.

“Good,” Yuri whimpers.

He is so wrecked already, and Yuuri has hardly touched him. His hand moves quicker over his clothed cock, and Yuri feels his gut coiling. _He's going to be so quick_. Yuri rocks into Yuuri's touch, face flushing.

He bites his lip, shaking his head as panic takes over suddenly; he can’t _come in his pants while Yuuri strokes him_. What had he been thinking? Trembling, Yuri inches away from Yuuri’s touch.

“Yuri?”

“S-stop,” Yuri whispers, cheeks heating.

Yuuri removes his hand without question, instead bringing it up to rest on Yuri’s shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he murmurs, not a hint of judgement in his tone. “You can tell me.” 

Yuri’s eyes dart around the room, desperate to look anywhere but at Yuuri’s face. He is already melting from the understanding and comfort of his touch, and can’t stand to see the same in his eyes. “I-I just… I th-thought I was ready.” Yuri exhales shakily; “I’m not.”

“That’s okay, Yuri.” Yuuri kisses his temple, a succinct touch that brings tears of embarrassment to Yuri’s eyes. “Don’t shut down, okay? Do you want to talk about it, or do you want to go have a shower?”

Yuri balks, knowing full well what Yuuri is implying he do _in the shower_. Blushing, he shrugs. “I feel really stupid.”

Yuuri shakes his head, an action Yuri only sees from the corner of his eye. “The first time anyone ever touched me there, I cried.”

Yuri finally glances up, meeting Yuuri’s gaze to see if he is joking or not. His face is serious, complexion flushed. “Why did you cry?” Yuri asks, voice small.

Yuuri chuckles, moving his arm to wrap it around Yuri’s shoulders. He pulls him close, kissing the top of his head. “Well, first of all, it was Phichit,” Yuuri begins. “We were roommates when I was in America for college. He was the first person I kissed, and it was mostly because we both wanted to just get it over with because we had no romantic or sexual experience whatsoever.”

“ _Phichit_? Really?” Yuri gapes, shifting closer and resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri chuckles, nodding. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Well, one time we tried to go a little further. He heard me… Well, he heard me taking care of myself in my room one night, and he slipped into bed with me. We touched each other and everything was fine until… afterwards.”

“What happened, after?”

“Well, nothing _happened_.” Yuuri rests his chin on Yuri’s head, pausing for a moment. “I just suddenly felt really, really overwhelmed. I started crying, and Phichit thought he’d done something wrong, but… He hadn’t. I just got overwhelmed and emotional, and it wasn’t anybody’s fault.”

Yuri reaches down, threading his fingers with Yuuri’s. “You were okay, though?”

“Yes, just really embarrassed. And I realized later on that I shouldn’t have been embarrassed- just like you shouldn’t be embarrassed now. It’s okay to not be ready to do something, and it’s okay to have to stop in the middle of something, or cry afterwards. You can’t help how you feel, and neither I nor Victor would _ever_ think badly of you for feeling a certain way.” 

Yuri sighs, turning his body in towards Yuuri’s. “You always know exactly what to say,” he marvels.

Yuuri hugs him tightly, pressing a kiss to his head. “Do you feel better now?”

“Yeah,” Yuri murmurs. 

It is then that Potya jumps back onto the couch. She climbs onto Yuri, sitting half on his lap and half on Yuuri's leg. She meows loudly, swatting Yuri's arm as if to assert herself. 

“Sorry, Potya,” Yuuri apologizes, scratching behind her ear. “It's my fault you're hungry, I didn't want to get up.”

The cat meows loudly in response, canting into Yuuri's touch. “She likes you,” Yuri murmurs.

“I like her, too,” Yuuri replies. He only pauses for a moment before pressing two subsequent kisses to Yuri's cheeks, causing them to heat once more. “And I like you,” he asserts playfully.

Finally, Yuri is able to return the sentiment that Yuuri states. He sighs softly, leaning against Yuuri's shoulder. “I like you, too.”

Yuri corners Victor in the locker room that very afternoon, while Yuuri is going over his routine with Yakov. He crowds Victor against the lockers and tells him sternly, “we need to go to Japan soon.”

“Excuse me?” Victor throws his sweat-soaked towel onto the bench before sitting down, pulling Yuri down with him. “Why’s that, little Yura?”

Yuri groans inwardly, shrugging. “He misses home.”

Yuri isn’t expecting Victor to pull him close, but he does. A warm kiss is pressed to his scalp, a hot words ghosting after it. “Did he tell you that?”

Yuri nods. “Sort of. He said his last trip there was a bad one and… he said he’s worried about his mom and sister… but I think that we should go, so that…” Yuri turns his face away, his cheeks heating. “So that he can make good memories there, with us.”

Victor sighs deeply, wrapping Yuri into a full embrace. “You have matured so much, Yura. I’m so proud of you.”

Flushing, Yuri buries his face in Victor’s chest. “Shut up.”

“He told me about this morning,” Victor murmurs quietly. “I’m proud of you for speaking up when you were uncomfortable. I know it’s not always an easy thing to do.”

Yuri fists the front of Victor’s shirt, exhaling heavily. “I really wanted it, I just…”

“You got overwhelmed, and that’s okay. There’s no rush, Yura. We will only do what you’re comfortable with, always. Do you understand that?”

Yuri nods against Victor’s chest, unable to form coherent words. Victor doesn’t seem to mind, meeting him halfway, as always. They stay like that until Yuuri comes into the locker room, panting as he joins them on the bench. “Yakov is in a mood today,” he complains, sagging against the other men. “He was just aw-”

Yuuri is silenced as he is pulled further into the embrace, and no one speaks for quite a while. They stay like that long after Yuuri’s breathing begins to slow, even after they hear Yakov locking up his office. They don’t need words, and they don’t need to move off the hard, uncomfortable bench. They just need to be with each other, and be as a whole.


	9. A Date

“Get dressed, my Yuuri, my Yura! We're going out!”

Victor dances across the room, opening the closet and rifling through it while humming softly. Yuri shifts, causing Potya to jump from his lap, and Yuuri places down his book. “Out?” He questions. “It's seven at night.”

Yuri chuckles, teasing him, “old man.”

As Yuuri starts to protest, Victor cuts in. “He's right, Yuuri! We've been acting too old! Let's go out on a date, the three of us. We don't even have practice tomorrow, so I don't want any excuses!”

“A date,” Yuri echoes, his heart beating faster.

“A date,” Victor asserts. “Let me take you both on a date. Please?”

Yuuri takes Yuri's hand, squeezing it gingerly. “Are you ready for a date, Pirozhki?”

Relaxing the slightest bit, Yuri nods. A question dances on his tongue, and he takes in a deep breath before setting it free. “Does that mean… that we're dating?”

Both Victor and Yuuri stare with perplexed expressions for a moment. Finally, Victor sits on the edge of the bed, speaking softly. “I thought we have been, already, Yura.”

Yuri swallows hard, the pit in his stomach dissolving. He nods slowly, reaching out and threading the fingers of his free hand with Victor's. Victor, in turn, links hands with Yuuri, so they are all connected. “I wanted to be sure,” Yuri admits.

Their smiles are nothing but warm and accepting, Victor leans in and presses a kiss to Yuri's temple. “We're a package deal, the three of us,” Victor assures him.

Victor takes them to dinner at a fancy restaurant, and then to the park. They sit on a bench together, Victor in the middle. He holds Yuuri and Yuri close, humming softly as they stare out onto the lake, and watch the reflection of the stars from the sky.

“Are you glad we went out so late, my little old man?” Victor teases Yuuri.

Yuuri chuckles and nods, playfully tapping his head to Victor's. “Yeah, yeah. And who are you calling old? You're older than me!”

Yuri groans, snuggling against Victor's side shamelessly. “And you're both older than me, so shut up, you geezers!”

“So cruel,” Victor hums, rubbing up and down Yuri's arm. “You tired?”

Yuri shakes his head, pulling away from Victor. He is stopped, however, and held back against him with a warm kiss pressed to his hair. “No, shh,” Victor murmurs. “Stay here.”

Yuri sighs, but leans into him once more. “Thanks for dinner,” he murmurs.

Victor shushes him again, refusing to accept his thanks. “Thank you for coming out with me. I wanted to take you both on a proper date.”

“Why's that?” Yuuri ventures to ask.

“Well, we'd never really been on one. And I wanted to make a memory with my beautiful boyfriends.”

Yuri blushes at his words, turning his face into Victor's jacket to hide it from him. The word coming from Victor's mouth is enough to leave Yuri breathless. He presses himself against Victor with earnest, and Victor, as always, meets him halfway. He grips Yuri's arm tighter, pulling him impossibly closer.

“That was okay to say?” He asks, genuinely concerned.

“ _Yes_ ,” Yuri breathes, shocked by just how _sure_ he sounds.

Yuri hears lips touching as Victor and Yuuri kiss, and then Victor rubs his arm gently. “Stop hiding, Yura. Let me kiss you.”

Yuri lifts his head slowly, only to be met with icy eyes. He can see every star reflecting off them like they're water, until they flutter closed. His own eyes do the same as Victor's fingers tilt his chin, slotting their lips together. His breath tickles the space between Yuri's nose and lips, and his careful touch threatens to make Yuri melt down to nothing. He is breathless when the contact fades, staring wide-eyed as Victor pulls away.

Yuuri moves next, a hand reaching over Victor to rest on Yuri's thigh. “Can I kiss you too, Yuri?”

Yuri finds himself nodding, and shutting his eyes once more as Yuuri leans in. His lips are soft and warm, comforting against Yuri's. He kisses Yuuri back insistently, feeling Yuuri's hand squeeze his leg gently as they pull away. Yuri has to bite his lip to stop himself from whining from the loss of contact.

“Yuri,” Yuuri breathes, the name ghosting Yuri's lips. “Do you like kissing us?”

Yuri nods mutely, cheeks coating with a blush. He pulls back, burying his face in Victor's jacket once more. Victor chuckles, rubbing his back. “You're embarrassing him, Yuuri. Of course he likes it.” Victor presses his lips to Yuri's temple and whispers for only him to hear, “you can tell in the way he kisses us back.”

_He cried into his pillow, struggling to suck in a breath of air. He couldn't sleep, not here. It was a strange place, and cicadas chirped outside, an unfamiliar sound. Victor was right in the next room, and Yuuri down the hall. He had to be quiet, lest someone hear him._

_It had been a mistake to come out here. He could see in the way that Victor looked at Yuuri, that he loved him. He could tell by the way that Yuuri looked back, that he loved Victor, too. There was no way he was going to bring Victor home with him, even if he did win their competition. Victor loved Yuuri. Victor didn't love him._

_The next day at the ice castle, Victor placed a gentle hand on Yuri's shoulder as they arrived at the rink. Alone, with Yuuri out jogging to get back into shape, Yuri didn't pull away from the touch. “Yura,” Victor murmured evenly, “no matter what happens, you do know that I'll always love you, right?”_

_“Shut up,” Yuri gritted, knowing exactly what Victor meant. He'd always love Yuri as a little brother, his junior. He loved Yuuri as so much more._

_Victor sighed, squeezing Yuri's shoulder. “Why did you come after me if you don't care? I know it's not about your routine.”_

_Yuri scoffed, shaking his head as he jerked from Victor's touch. “We both know you're staying no matter what.”_

_Victor never argued that Yuri was wrong._

Yuri wakes to a sweaty brow and a pounding heart, his boyfriends still sleeping on either side of him. Sighing with relief, Yuri tugs them both closer. Victor complies sleepily, wrapping his arms around Yuri. Yuuri rolls over with a whimper, nuzzling against Yuri and sloppily kissing his cheek. Shutting his eyes, Yuri inhales sandalwood and salt, rain water and mint. He is ever so grateful that he followed Victor to Japan.


	10. Clairvoyance

_He was so hard that it hurt. He rocked up against whatever was in front of him, chasing a release that just wouldn't come. He was throbbing, wrecked. His cock was leaking to the point of soaking his boxers through, but he still couldn't get the friction he needed. Whimpering, Yuri tried to reach down and touch himself. His hands were as heavy as lead, unable to move._

_“Please,” he begged, “please, it hurts. I need it… I need to…”_

“Yura, wake up.”

He stirs, but just slightly. He rocks his hips again, moaning at the friction that still isn't enough.

“Yura, Yura,” Victor's soft voice snaps his eyes open, and he realizes exactly _what_ he's been canting himself into. His cock is hard and throbbing, slotted against Victor's thigh.

“Oh my god!” Yuri squeaks, scrambling to the edge of the bed. He hides his face under the blanket, tears of shame filling his eyes. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Oh my god…”

“Yura, hush,” Victor moves behind him, holding him close. “It's alright, you were asleep. Calm down.”

“Victor,” Yuri hisses, “I was _humping your leg_ like a damn dog!”

“Yura,” Victor breathes. He shifts, and Yuri feels something hard touch the back of his thigh. “Trust me, I didn't mind at all.”

“Are you..?” Yuri resists the urge to rock backwards and feels Victor's erection for all it’s worth.

“Yes,” Victor confirms, helping Yuri to turn in his arms so they are facing. “Look at me,” Victor murmurs.

Yuri does, cheeks red. He is met with eyes of understanding, not disgust or pity. Not even lust, though it's obvious that Victor is dealing with his own arousal. Still, he puts Yuri and his comfort first. Nimble fingers brush back Yuri's hair, a succinct kiss is pressed to his forehead.

“What do you want to do, Yura? You could take care of it yourself, or I would be glad to.”

Yuri is silent, cheeks flushing as he remembers when Yuuri attempted to take care of him. As if sensing his indiscretions, Victor continues.

“We can stop at any time, and you don't have to say yes. This is about you, and what you are comfortable with. So don't be afraid to be honest.”

Yuri squeezes his cock between his thighs, biting down on his lip a bit too hard. He tastes iron seeping into his mouth. Carefully, Yuri reaches down and takes Victor's hand, moving it to his crotch. “Could you maybe… just… touch a little, like this?”

Victor nods, cupping his package but not moving his hand. “You need to tell me if you don't like something, or if you need to stop. Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

Yuri is rewarded with a light squeeze, his cock twitching at the warm contact as he bites back a moan. Victor smiles at him, kneading Yuri gently, thumbing up and down his shaft through his pajamas. “Does that feel okay?”

Yuri nods, rutting his hips into Victor's hand. After humping Victor's thigh in his sleep, the action doesn't feel so embarrassing. Victor squeezes his package again, and Yuri gasps quietly. It feels so good- but he needs more. The tension building inside him is similar to his dream; the friction isn't enough, he needs contact. Carefully, Yuri slides his hand down his stomach and beneath the waistband of his pants and underwear.

Yuri shamelessly pumps his cock twice as it springs free from his pants, trying to stifle the moan caused by his own touch. Desperately, he locks eyes with Victor. “Please,” he whispers, letting go of his shaft, and letting his dick rest heavily between them.

Victor sucks in a sharp breath, expelling a sound that seems to be a mix between a moan and a grunt. He seems to be teetering on the edge of keeping control as he reaches down and grips Yuri at the base of his member, slowly moving his hand up and down. “Like that?” He murmurs.

Yuri nods, too far gone to even be embarrassed of his own neediness. He is ready, now. He isn't afraid. Arousal coils in his gut, winning over the anxiety of the fact that he is about to spill all over himself and Victor. He shuts his eyes tight, feeling waves of electricity spiking in his gut.

“Faster?” Victor offers, breathless.

Yuri nods, expelling a muffled moan as he buries his face against the pillow. As he feels his insides twisting and his balls tightening up, he gasps, “I’m going to-”

But he already is. Everything goes white as he comes, not caring where his mess lands. His entire body tenses and then releases, cock pulsating. He can barely hear Victor’s breathless moans over his own, and he slaps his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound, realizing that Yuuri is still sleeping. His orgasm is hard and fast, leaving him limp. He barely registers Victor cleaning him up, shuddering as a tissue touches his softening member.

By the time he opens his eyes, Victor is rubbing his back gingerly. “You okay?” he murmurs, brushing back Yuri’s hair.

Yuri nods, wrapping his arms around Victor’s waist. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Victor chuckles, pressing a kiss to his head. “It’s nothing to thank me for. Do you feel better now?”

Embarrassment taking over once more, Yuri nods into Victor’s chest. “Do you want me to…” Yuri gestures at Victor’s crotch, where his erection is still prominent.

Victor breathes out, spurts of warm air hitting Yuri’s scalp. “No, no. I want you to cuddle up with Yuuri and try to get a little more sleep. I’m going to go have a shower and cook some breakfast, okay?”

“But Vitya, I-”

“Shh…” Victor rubs Yuri’s back, sighing deeply. “I love when you call me that, Yura. I think it’s because you don’t say it very often.”

“Vitya,” Yuri repeats, barely audible.

“I love you, little Yura. Get some rest for me.” With that, Victor slips from the bed.

Yuri waits until the bathroom door closes and the shower starts to creep from the bed and pull on his clothes. He tip-toes past the hall bathroom, only pausing for a moment to listen to Victor’s muffled grunts and moans. In the foyer, Yuri slips on his shoes and finds Makkachin’s leash. He calls the dog over, hurrying her out the door for her morning walk. As Yuuri said, it’s okay if he can’t say the words, yet. He can still let them know that he loves them. Yuri smiles as he steps into the brisk, morning air.


	11. Cinnamon and Honey

“Hey,” Mila murmurs, hugging Yuri from behind as he leans at the edge of the rink. She rests her chin on his shoulder, squeezing him.

“Hey,” he replies, placing a hand over her arms to keep them there. “You okay?”

Mila hums noncommittally, sighing. “You remember Sara?”

Yuri thinks back, remembering the dark-haired girl, Michele’s twin sister. “Yeah, what about her?”

“We talk sometimes, and… we were talking a lot more for a while. I thought we might have been developing a thing, you know?”

Yuri turns slightly, humming. “You weren't?”

Mila laughs bitterly, hiding her face in Yuri's shirt. “She doesn't like girls,” she murmurs sadly. “So she doesn't feel the same way about me, she said.”

“I'm sorry,” Yuri whispers, rubbing his hand over her arm. 

“She said she's not weirded out that I like her… She said we can still be friends, that nothing will change.” Mila sighs dramatically, groaning into Yuri's shoulder. “I know it won't be the same though.”

“You like her a lot?”

Mila nods, squeezing Yuri again. “I thought… the way we would talk, I thought it was… more than the ways friends talk. I guess I got my hopes up by assuming.”

“You'll be okay, though?” Yuri noses at her head until she lifts it, locking eyes with him.

“You know I will,” she assures him. “I'm tough.”

Yuri squeezes her arm with his hand, snorting. “Yeah, I know that.”

Mila smiles softy, leaning in and placing a playful kiss on Yuri's cheek. “Thanks for letting me mope, sweetie. Love you.”

Yuri doesn't think twice about answering “love you, too” as she pulls away. How is it that he can express his love for her so easily, but not Victor and Yuuri? Sighing, Yuri trains his eyes across the ice. They are working on a routine together, giggling and grinning. Victor's hands easy drift on Yuuri's body, unafraid to touch him. Yuuri accepts every sign of affection, unquestioning.

“Yuri!” Yuuri notices him staring, and probably scowling, motioning him over. “Come here!”

He skates over, only to be wrapped up in Yuuri's arms. “You look grumpy. What's wrong, Pirozhki?”

Yuri shrugs, sighing as Victor closes him in from behind. He breathes in their colognes, shaking his head against Yuuri's chest. Remembering the burnt sandalwood of Yuuri's eyes and the way Victor's look like rain, he is once again struck with the feeling of not belonging. Before he can stop himself, he voices his concerns.

“The two of you are meant for each other, and I feel like it doesn't come as easily to me. And… you each have a piece of each other. Victor, your cologne is sandalwood and salt, and Yuuri's eyes are burnt sandalwood. Yuuri's cologne is rainwater and mint, soft and overcast, like your eyes. I can never express my feelings and we aren't effortless with each other like the two of you are.”

“Yura?”

He knows he is making no sense, so he buries his face deeper against Yuuri's chest. “Forget it.”

“I won't forget it,” Victor argues. “Look at me, please.”

Yuri pulls away from Yuuri's chest just enough to twist within their arms, eyes locking with Victor's. “I never make any sense when I try to explain things,” Yuri complains.

Victor brushes back a strand of hair that has fallen from Yuri's ponytail. He leans in, bringing his face to Yuri's neck. Yuri freezes as Victor inhales deeply, humming with content. “Did you know that if you look really close at Yuuri's eyes in the light, you can see little speckles of red in there?”

“What?” Yuri mutters, perplexed.

“It's true, you can,” Victor continues. “And, I've got some blonde strands in my hair. Did you know that, Yura?”

Yuri swallows hard, nodding. “I know.”

Victor smiles, pressing a kiss to Yuri's cheek. “Your cologne smells like cinnamon and honey, love.” It's the first time Victor has called him that; it's a name Yuri had figured was reserved for Yuuri only. “Cinnamon, like the red in Yuuri's eyes, and honey, like the blonde in my hair. So I guess we've got a part of you, too.”

Yuri's lip trembles with the weight of what Victor has said. No matter what he needs, Victor and Yuuri comply. Any reassurances are given without question, and they always meet him where he stands. “Idiot,” Yuri barks, the tears in his eyes spilling over onto his cheeks. “You s-stupid old man.”

Yuuri chuckles in his ear from behind, pressing a kiss to his head. “He's right, though.”

“Don't cry, Yura,” Victor murmurs, thumbing over Yuri's cheeks. “There's no need to cry.”

Yuuri argues, “let him cry if he needs to. He doesn't need a reason.”

“Both of you shut up,” Yuri mumbles weakly. He tugs them both closer, letting them fully envelope him. It's a comfortable cocoon, and he savors every second of their warmth. “I want to go home,” he mumbles.

Victor pets his hair carefully, whispering, “we can if you want to, Yura, but Yakov will be mad. Are you sure you don't want to stay?”

Yuri sucks in a deep breath, shifting in their arms. “I want to go home, and…” Word fail him yet again, so he chooses actions instead. After a quick scan of the room to assure no one is watching them, Yuri cranes his neck up and presses a succinct kiss to the corner of Victor's mouth. “...do that. Can we?”

“Show Yuuri,” Victor murmurs, almost sensually. “Show Yuuri what you want to do when we get home.”

Yuri humors him, twisting in his arms until he is facing Yuuri once more. “I want to do this,” he breathes, leaning in. His lips touch Yuuri's, featherlike. Yuuri's cheeks are red when Yuri pulls away.

Yuuri exhales shakily, moving his hands down to Yuri's waist. He thumbs at his sides, sucking the breath back in. “I want to go home too, Vitya,” he mumbles pitifully. “I really want to go home.”

Victor chuckles, a hand reaching up and petting Yuuri's hair. “Okay, we'll go home, then.”

Victor deals with Yakov, giving him some excuse that Yuri knows the old man doesn't believe. They slip away from the rink and walk down the street, the three of them linking hands. By the time they get home, Yuri's skin is on fire. He is hardly able to wait until the door is unlocked to pin Yuuri against the wall, crashing their lips together. 

“Yuuri,” he whispers against his lips, “I'm glad we came home.”


	12. Butterfly Kisses

Yuuri breathes shallowly, warm spurts landing on Yuri's lips. “Me too,” he whispers. “I'm glad we came home, too.”

Victor anchors himself behind Yuri, effectively trapping Yuri between them, and Yuuri between Victor, Yuri, and the wall. “What do you want to do, love?” Victor whispers, his thumbs rubbing at Yuri's hips.

Yuri knows that they are both holding back. They're waiting for him to set the rules, to make boundaries. But, he doesn't know them yet. All Yuri knows is that his body feels warmer than it should, and the only thing he wants to feel is Yuuri's lips against his. Yuri presses his lips to Yuuri's again in a succinct touch before whispering, “I just want to…” As always, he is at a loss for words.

Yuuri's expression is open, and he smiles at Yuri reassuringly. “You can show us, instead,” he suggests. “It only goes as far as you want it to, Yuri.”

He sighs with relief, his hands reaching out and resting on Yuuri's sides. He wordlessly leans in once more, flesh to flesh smacking softly between contact. Victor kisses Yuri's neck tenderly, touches that he can hardly feel. He is glass, and Victor won't break him. Yuuri waits for Yuri to make the first move towards something more. He is grateful for their patient natures.

Yuri kisses Yuuri with more passion, maybe even a bit of lust. His hand grip at his sides, thumbs rubbing methodically as Victor's do to his own. He hears a soft moan as he and Yuuri kiss, only realizing that the sound came from him when he is fully sandwiched between their bodies. It feels almost too good; his body is on fire.

“Couch,” he whispers. “Can we sit on the couch?”

They barely break any contact to move, Yuri's lips still pressing to Yuuri's as Victor guides them to the couch. They sit in the same order- Yuri is held between their bodies. It's not enough, though. Yuri inches even closer to Yuuri, his kisses becoming more insistent as he lowers himself right onto Yuuri's lap in a straddle.

Yuri swipes his tongue over Yuuri's lips, and they open for him without hesitation. Once inside, however, he doesn't know what to do with the organ. Luckily, Yuuri takes the lead and moves his tongue around Yuri's. He sucks on it, eliciting a gasp from Yuri and a giggle from him. Yuri can feel every sound Yuuri makes in his own mouth; they are connected as one.

Yuri is heady from Victor's hands on his sides, his soft kisses on his neck. He is drunk on Yuuri's tongue in his mouth. He presses down against Yuuri, gasping at the obvious hardness he meets. He fights the urge to grind down on it, forcing himself to break away from the kiss long enough to murmur, “did I do that?”

Yuuri smiles, nodding. His breath is shallow and needing, but his hands still graze Yuri's sides as if he isn't fighting off lust. “Victor hasn't even touched me. It was all you, Yuri.”

Yuri did that. Yuri makes him feel good, makes him _want_. He whimpers to cover up a moan as he experimentally grinds down, causing Yuuri to whine and cant his hips up for more contact. He immediately gasps, sinking back down as his hands begin to tremble at Yuri's sides.

“I'm sorry!” Yuuri gasps. “Yuri, are you al-”

“Do it again,” Yuri whispers, almost inaudible. Their faces are still close enough that he feels Yuuri's breath above his lips, and he moans as Yuuri's hardness comes back up to rut against his own.

“Do you like that, Yura?” Victor murmurs in his ear, chuckling softly. “Do you like seeing how easily you can make him fall apart?”

Yuri nods shamelessly, whispering, “can I please touch you?”

Yuuri grunts softly, biting his lower lip. “Only if you promise to stop if you're uncomfortable.”

“I promise,” Yuri breathes, slipping his hand between their bodies.

He's shaking as he cups Yuuri's package; nerves get the best of him as he squeezes it carefully. He swears he can feel Yuuri twitch beneath the fabric of his pants as he moans, trying but failing to stifle the sound. Yuri moves his hand experimentally, touching the outline of his cock with his thumb and two fingers, just feeling. 

“Can I touch you for real?” Yuri whispers, voice shaking with uncertainty.

“Yes,” Yuuri breathes. “Yes, if you'd like to.”

Yuri fuels himself with the desperation in Yuuri's voice, slipping his hand under the waistband of his pants without further hesitation. He's clumsy, pulling Yuuri's member out. Yuri flushes as Yuuri's hardness gets caught on the waistband, having to use both hands to get Yuuri exposed.

“Sorry,” Yuri apologizes softly.

Yuuri opens his mouth to speak, but Victor beats him to it, rubbing on Yuri's hips softly. “You're doing so well, love. You're feeling okay so far?”

Yuri's hand grasps the base of Yuuri's dick as he nods, pumping the length slowly. “I'm just nervous that I won't do very good,” he admits softly.

“It feels amazing, Yuri,” Yuuri whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

“Do you want me to guide you?” Victor asks lowly in his ear.

Yuri nods, eager for Victor's help. He knows he is inexperienced, but he still wants to make Yuuri feel good. Victor presses a few kisses to Yuri’s neckline, murmuring hotly onto his skin. Soft words, careful directions, all of which Yuri follows diligently. He squeezes Yuuri’s member at the base, he gathers the pre-come from Yuuri’s head and uses it for lubrication. Yuuri’s head peeks out further and further as Yuri strokes him, getting redder by the second.

“Yuri, I’m close,” Yuuri whispers.

Victor hums, encouraging him. “Look how quick he is for you. You make him unravel so easily.”

Yuri bites his lip, pumping Yuuri's cock even faster. Yuuri whimpers, his voice cracking as he spills all over Yuri's hand. He chants Yuri's name like a prayer as his dick pulsates in Yuri's grasp. It's hot and sticky- and though Yuri has spilled all over himself many times- this feels so much more intimate.

“Was it good?” Yuri asks self-consciously as Yuuri's cock starts softening.

Yuuri nods, smiling brightly. Yuri hardly notices Victor cleaning them both off with tissues as Yuuri murmurs, “thank you, Yuri. Are you okay?”

Yuri nods, pulling Yuuri into a tight embrace. He focuses on nothing but Yuuri's scent, and his breathing. He is still panting, and Yuri feels Yuuri's heart pounding against his own chest. They kiss, and it's soft and sweet. It's everything that the kisses they shared earlier were not. Victor wraps his arms around them both, cocooning them. When Yuri's lips leave Yuuri's, Victor's replace them with a succinct touch.

“I love you both,” Victor whispers.

The words are everything that Yuri needs, and he wants nothing more than to be able to return them. But they get stuck in his throat like they always do, and he ends up hiding his face in Yuuri's shoulder. Yuuri presses a kiss to Yuri's hair as if to assure him that it's alright before murmuring to Victor, “we love you, Vitya.”


	13. Paralysis

The ice is glass, but it doesn't break. It's the last thing Yuri sees before his vision blackens. Ice, cold and unforgiving against his cheek. He feels like he's lying inside of Victor's eyes, a cool blue with a grey sheen. Everything is a blur, except that horizontal glass that his eyes train to. He blinks- once, twice. Is it becoming foggy? The garbled combination of Victor and Yuuri's voices is the last thing Yuri hears before he loses himself completely.

It's the first thing he hears when he regains consciousness, as well. He feels nothing but overwhelming nausea, and he barely has time to turn his head before he's gagging. Somewhere, in another universe, something is held to his mouth for him to vomit into. A soft voice fills his ears though he can't make out the words, and a warm hand pets his hair. Back in reality, Yuri drifts off again.

Paralysis is a frightening sensation. Perhaps he's just dreaming. He hears muffled voices, but he can't open his eyes. His throat feels tight and raw, his eyes are swollen shut. His head aches so badly- there is an extra pulse beneath his skull. Is his brain going to explode? His bones can't handle this much pressure. It hurts; it hurts so badly.

He vomits again, or maybe he's just expelling his soul. Something comes up, but he doesn't register it leaving his body. He's choking, he's dying- why is everyone shouting? His chest aches, his ribs are splintering. He thinks he feels a warm touch, but then he grows cold once more.

How long has he been trapped inside this dream? Days, weeks, months? He's cold; is he still on the ice? No, the glass is broken… or, is he broken? He can't remember, though he knows that he doesn't feel whole. He shivers, and something warm touches his forehead. 

_Are you there, God? It's me, Yuri_. It starts as a joke- a memory, a fragment. Standing outside the cathedral with Dedushka, wondering why he wouldn't just go inside. But then, Yuri begins to pray. Promises that he will never keep course through his mind- he'll never talk back to Yakov again, he'll call his grandfather more, he'll tell Yuuri and Victor how much he loves them. _Are you there, God? I'm feeling very cold_.

He stops bargaining. He aches, but the voices that were once muffled become less so. He can't make out words and he can't open his eyes, but he doesn't feel quite as cold. Behind closed eyes, he replays the horizontal glass fading away. _What the hell happened_?

Yuri swallows. It's the first conscious effort he can manage, the first guttural instinct as he begins to warm. He swallows. The simple action is a reassurance- I'm alive. If I can swallow, I'm alive. He longs for something more to ground him, but for now, his own saliva running down his throat will have to do.

He can feel his limbs- they're all still there? He wiggles his fingers and toes, pursing his lips and trying to make any sort of sound. He thinks he manages a grunt, but he is soon silenced by a soft voice and a warmth surrounding him. It's comfortable, familiar. It smells like rain water and mint.

His eyes are heavy, but he manages to crack them open the slightest bit. It's too bright- he shuts them again almost immediately. He tries again, letting his eyes adjust. It's bright and it's blurry, but he makes out two dark blobs against a white landscape, both of which rush closer as he turns his head. He falls asleep again just as they reach him.

His lips are dry and cracked, but he manages to wet them with his tongue. He moans, or maybe he grunts. He can't be sure, but as his eyes open once more, both dark blurs are close to him. He coughs and tries to move, but is gently pushed right back down.

“Yuri, shh, it's okay.” Too loud; it's too loud. “You're okay, lie back for me.”

His cheeks feel wet. Is he crying? Maybe that's why he can't see a thing. He tries to speak Yuuri's name, but it comes out too quiet and garbled. Warm lips touch Yuri's cheek, and he hears Victor speak. “Rest for us. Don't try to speak or move. We're right here, Yura. Don't be afraid.”

He collapses into comfort.

The final time he wakes, he can see. It's blurred and his eyes keep watering, but he can focus on Victor and Yuuri sitting at his bedside. Relieved, he takes in a deep breath. _He's alive, he's okay. He's out of that terrible dream_.

“What happened?” His voice isn't his own- it's rough and raspy, broken.

Yuuri grabs his hand and kisses it before threading their fingers together, and Victor nuzzles into Yuri's neck. He can feel Victor's sigh of relief ghost his skin and he squeezes Yuuri's hand. “You fell, love. On the ice.”

“You hit your head, Yuri. They thought it was just a concussion but it seemed to be a bit more of a problem… Let's not get into it right now, okay?”

“How long ago… did I fall?”

They are silent for a moment, until Victor presses a kiss to Yuri's neck. “Two days ago,” he breathes. Yuri gasps as he feels hot tears trickle onto his skin, Victor's body beginning to tremble. “We were so afraid, Yurochka. You weren't waking up.”

Yuri feels his lips trembling as he struggles to hold back his own tears, but they leak down his cheeks despite his efforts. “I was afraid, too. It felt like a bad dream.”

“You're going to be just fine, Yuri,” he is assured by Yuuri. “The doctor said so. So don't worry, okay?”

“What was I doing, when I fell?”

“You don't remember?” Victor whispers.

Yuri shakes his head, causing sharp pains to shoot through his entire skull. “Ow! Oh…”

“Yuri, don't move your head around!” Yuuri moves quickly, steadying Yuri by placing his hands on his cheeks. “You can't shake your head around like that,” he whispers, softer. 

Their faces are close enough that Yuri can move the slightest bit forward, brushing their lips in a sweet kiss. He's never been so grateful to be able to kiss someone before. Yuri smiles as they stare at each other, and Yuuri smiles back with all the love in the world. Yuri feels tears gathering in his eyes again as Victor untangles himself from where he had burrowed, wiping his own tears.

“Don't cry, Vitya,” Yuri whispers, though his own eyes are leaking. “You never cry.”

“I'm happy, Yura. I'm glad you're okay.” Yuuri pats his back reassuringly as he adds, “I love you.”

Yuri remembers the unspoken promise in his broken haze. Trembling, he takes a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, even if you aren't happy with what I did here, please take it easy on me. I've been dealing with some really intense depression lately, and I know it's bleeding into my writing. Please be kind; I'm fragile right now.


	14. Bedrest

“I-” he chokes up, cheeks heating. “Me too,” he manages, though he knows it's a cop-out.

“Hey,” Yuuri says softly, tilting Yuri's chin with a soft touch. They lock eyes, and Yuri immediately relaxes. “Thank you, Yuri,” he whispers. 

Yuri falls asleep with Victor and Yuuri curled up on either side of him on the tiny hospital bed. It's cramped and Yuri can't move, but he is grateful. He accepts every affection that they offer, drunk on sandalwood and salt, rain water and mint. He isn't cold any longer; he soaks up their heat gratefully.

Yakov and Mila visit Yuri the next day. Dedushka FaceTimes him with the help of a nurse at his facility, and the doctors release him after another two days in the hospital. He feels a bit wobbly and his head aches, but he is glad to go home. It will be two weeks until he can skate again, but Victor and Yuuri do their best to keep his mind off that.

He is on bedrest for a few days. He can't even go to the rink to do his stretches. Even worse, Victor and Yuuri insist that he can't be alone. Each day, one of them goes to practice in the morning and the other stays home with Yuri. In the afternoon, they switch. Yuri is riddled with guilt, knowing that they both need to be practicing instead of sitting at home with him.

“Yuuri,” Yuri groans as they lay on the couch together. “I feel like shit.”

They are under a giant pile of blankets, and Yuuri untangles himself enough to press the back of his hand to Yuri's forehead. “I can't give you another painkiller, yet. It hasn't been long enough since th-”

“That's not what I meant.” Yuri moves closer to Yuuri, settling between his legs and leaning back. “You idiots are missing practice, and you don't have to be. I don't need you to baby me like this, I'd be just fine on my own.”

Yuuri is silent for a moment. When he speaks, his voice shakes in a way that tells Yuri he is certainly wearing that _hurt_ expression. “We want to take care of you, Yuri. If we were gone and something happened to you… We'd never forgive ourselves.”

Yuri sighs, haphazardly reaching under the blanket until he finds Yuuri's hand. He squeezes it, threading their fingers together. “Nothing is going to happen to me.”

Yuuri buries his face in Yuri's hair from behind, nuzzling against his neck. “I saw what you were trying to do when you fell.”

There is a pause, and Yuri swallows hard. He doesn't remember anything before hitting his head. Everything between getting to practice that morning and laying on the ice before passing out is a blur. “I don't remember. I don't remember anything that happened before,” he whispers, almost afraid to hear Yuuri's explanation.

Yuuri squeezes him, kissing the back of his neck. “It looked like you were trying to land a quad flip.”

Yuri suddenly feels smothered. His heart begins to race, and his breathing feels erratic. His brain aches as the memories flood back in- he _was_ trying a quad flip. He had thought no one was looking. He'd wanted to surprise Victor by learning it, like Yuuri had. He had wanted to show Victor that he could do it, too.

“Sweetie?”

Yuri shifts in Yuuri's arms, clinging tightly to the fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I wanted to… show him. Like you did.”

Yuuri rubs his back until he can breathe again, whispering, “I know that. I know. Don't get upset.”

“I'm not upset,” Yuri grumbles.

Yuuri chuckles, helping Yuri to adjust so that he is fully in Yuuri's lap. He settles down easily, leaning against Yuuri's shoulder and drowning in his affection. “You comfy?” Yuuri murmurs.

Yuri nods, sinking impossibly further into the embrace. “I like that we can do this,” he admits. It's something he could never admit before- he likes this. He likes being held by Yuuri, sitting in his lap. Kissing him, hugging him. He likes how Victor rolls over and spoons him in the morning, how Yuuri wakes him with gentle forehead kisses. And he is allowed to like it.

“That we can do what? Cuddle?”

Yuri blushes up to his ears, grumbling, “well, don't call it _that_!”

Yuuri laughs, squeezing Yuri's torso tightly and rocking him. “But that's what it is, we're _cuddling_!” He presses kiss after kiss to Yuri's warm cheek, smiling into each of them. “My little kitten likes to cuddle me! I'm so honored.”

“I hate you,” Yuri groans, but he makes no move to get away from Yuuri's smothering.

Yuuri only kisses him again, chuckling. “You don’t hate me,” he affirms quietly.

“I know,” Yuri agrees, barely audible. 

Yuuri hums with content just as they hear the familiar sound of a key in the lock. The front door opens cautiously, and Victor smiles when he sees they are awake. “How was your morning?” He asks, tossing his keys onto the counter. 

“Good,” Yuuri answers for them, untangling himself to get up from the couch. “We had a nice morning together.”

Victor chuckles, kissing Yuuri’s lips before shooing him towards the door. “Well, get ready for a not-so-good afternoon; Yakov is not having it today.”

Yuuri groans as he pulls on his sneakers, pouting at Yuri and Victor. “Can’t I just stay home?”

“Not if you want any chance of beating me this season, Katsudon!” Yuri challenges.

Yuuri grins, winking at Yuri. “You’re right about that, Pirozhki. A week on bedrest and you can still kick my ass.”

Victor settles on the couch as Yuuri leaves, after the three of them say their goodbyes. He wraps his arms around Yuri and murmurs, “do you need anything? A drink, a snack?” Just as Yuri is opening his mouth to answer, Victor adds, “hugs and kisses?”

Yuri groans, but he snuggles against Victor either way. “You're so embarrassing.”

Victor chuckles, kissing Yuri's cheek playfully. “Bet I'm needy, too, hmm?”

“Yeah, jerk. You are.”

“Too bad, you'll get used to it,” Victor counters, holding Yuri closer. “I missed you this morning.”

“ _Needy_ ,” Yuri asserts.

“Yeah,” Victor agrees. Close to Yuri's ear, he murmurs, “what would you like to do this afternoon, love?”

Yuri smirks, shifting in Victor's arms so that they are facing. He moves slowly and carefully, his hands resting on Victor's thighs for support as he leans up and slots their lips together. Victor kisses him back at the pace he sets, slow and sensual. When he pulls back, Yuri tilts his head just so, jutting out his lower lip.

“Could we do that?”

Victor is breathless, clearly affected by Yuri's careful ministrations. “Please,” he murmurs, leaning in once more.


	15. Yes

It feels good; Yuri feels at ease. He slides onto Victor’s lap in a straddle without hesitation, pressing himself down onto Victor’s crotch. Victor only pulls his lips away from Yuri’s lips long enough to breathe onto them, “we can stop any time you need, love.”

He knows that, and that’s why he doesn’t need to stop. He feels Victor growing hard beneath him, and he lets out an embarrassing moan that is only stopped by Victor’s lips on his. He is already strained against his own pants, rocking his hips down and trying to get as much friction as possible, though they are both clothed.

“V-Vitya,” he murmurs, pulling away enough to lock eyes with the older man. He’s never seen his icy blues so dark, so lidded. Victor bites his lip, opening his mouth to spew assurances about stopping that Yuri doesn’t need to hear. “I want…” he flushes, suddenly embarrassed. 

Victor doesn’t let up, wetting his lips and lightly canting his hips up for their erections to rub once more. Yuri moans at the contact, whimpering softly as Victor pulls away. “What do you want, Yura?”

“I want…” he tries again, cheeks growing hotter by the second. “...you,” he finally whispers, grinding down again.

The sound Victor expels is nothing short of glorious, and Yuri is prideful to have caused it. Victor’s hands slide down Yuri’s side, his fingers teasing at the front of Yuri’s waistband. “Do you want me to rub my dick against yours, Yuri?” He breathes.

Yuri gasps at Victor’s crude language and the use of his proper name, nodding furiously. “Yes,” he moans. 

Victor wastes no time slipping his fingers under Yuri’s waistband while simultaneously working on his own, pulling out two erections, red with want. Yuri stares, shocked by Victor’s size when hard. He gapes, wetting his lips. Victor languidly strokes himself with one hand and Yuri with the other, still not bringing their members together. “What’s wrong?”

Yuri shakes his head, whimpering at Victor’s hand working him. “It’s so big,” he marvels. “Bigger than-ah-mine and Yuuri’s.” He blushes suddenly, biting his lower lip. “Well, Yuuri’s is bigger than mine, too, but…”

“You’re still growing,” Victor whispers, moving forward and capturing Yuri’s lips in a kiss. The action causes him to release his lower lip from his teeth and instead move his mouth against Victor’s. “I’m going to move them together now,” Victor warns, a quiet whisper before euphoria hits.

He is so warm and wet against Yuri. Had they both been leaking? Victor easily slides their cocks together, creating a friction that is foreign to Yuri. It feels too good, and he know he is helpless to last even half as long as he usually would, not that that is very long to begin with. Yuri groans as Victor’s hand tightens around them both, his head pulsing in Victor’s grasp.

“Vitya,” he whispers, “I’m c-close already…”

“That’s okay,” Victor murmurs, kissing at Yuri’s neck. “I’m close, too. You feel so good, love.”

Yuri blushes at the praise, fully relaxing as Victor’s lips press to his neck and up his jawline. His gut coils, and he finds himself rocking into Victor’s hand without shame. “Please, Victor,” he begs, unsure what he wants Victor to actually _do_. “ _Please_ ,”

“Come for me, Yura, you can come,” Victor encourages him, slotting their cocks together at an even quicker pace. Yuri is pushed right over the edge, head falling against Victor’s shoulder as he moans loudly. He chants Victor’s name and is barely aware of Victor’s gasp in his ear, the strangled moan as his dick begins to throb against Yuri’s.

They are both a proper mess. Victor instinctively grabs a handful of tissues to clean them, but only succeeds in spreading the mess coating their shrinking cocks and stomachs. Yuri laughs despite himself, grinning at Victor. “We made a mess,” he whispers. 

Victor chuckles, nodding as he tosses the tissues to the side. “These aren’t helping,” he concedes.

Yuri shakes his head. “Nope.”

“We need a shower,” Victor announces. Without warning, he scoops Yuri up into his arms, both of their pants still open and hanging off their waists.

Yuri yelps, grabbing on to Victor’s shoulders for balance. “Victor!” He scolds half-heartedly.

“Hush,” Victor murmurs, kissing Yuri’s lips succinctly. In the bathroom, Yuri is placed on the closed toilet lid while Victor turns on the shower. “May I undress you?”

Yuri smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t you mean _finish_ undressing me?” He teases, nodding down at his opened pants.

Victor grins in return, nodding. “I guess you’re right.” He tugs up Yuri's shirt, slipping it over his head as he holds up his arms. He helps Yuri to wiggle out of his pants and underwear, tossing them to the side. He shoos Yuri into the shower as he undresses, slipping in after him.

Victor keeps close enough for Yuri to be comforted by his presence, but far enough that they aren't on top of each other. Gentle hands tip Yuri's head back to wet his hair, causing Yuri to wince as the hot water hits his still-sensitive skull. His stitches have dissolved, but the pressure of the water still hurts. “Ouch,” he mutters.

“It still hurts?” Victor asks, immediately moving Yuri from under the stream. 

“Yeah, kind of,” Yuri admits.

Victor nods, reaching up and twisting the showerhead to change the pressure setting. “Is this better?”

When Victor dips Yuri's head back under, the stream of water is light and bearable, pouring over his head like water poured slowly from a glass. “Much better,” Yuri mumurs.

“Your hair is so long, now. Will you grow it even longer?” Victor asks as he massages shampoo into Yuri's shoulder-length locks.

Yuri shrugs, keening at Victor’s gentle care. “I don't think so.” He relaxes as Victor rinses his hair carefully, treating him like he's made of glass. “Can I wash your hair, now?” Yuri asks when Victor is done.

Victor smiles, bending down so that Yuri can do so. Yuri palms together some shampoo, carefully pushing Victor's bangs back and running his fingers over his scalp. He massages shampoo onto every inch of Victor's head, every strand of his hair. Victor hums quietly, expression blissful. “Feels nice,” he murmurs.

“Good,” Yuri responds, internally beaming that he can make Victor feel so relaxed.

After Victor’s hair is rinsed, he goes to work soaping Yuri’s body along with his own. He kneels down to wash Yuri everywhere- even in his most intimate places. Yuri stands still as he is washed, letting Victor touch him without hesitation. By sheer will, he manages not to become erect again as Victor washes his genitals.

“I care about you a lot, Yura,” Victor whispers as he soaps Yuri’s legs. “You know that, don’t you?”

Yuri nods, threading his fingers through Victor’s wet hair. “I know. I care about you, too.”

Victor sighs, moving his hands up to rest on Yuri’s forearms. His eyes are wet when they meet Yuri’s, his lip trembling. “Will you please promise me something, then?” Yuri swallows hard, nodding wordlessly. He will promise Victor anything in the world if it will keep him from crying. “Promise me that you won’t ever attempt something like that again without help. I know why you wanted to do it without any coaching, and I want you to know that I’m not asking this of you to be cruel. I’m asking this of you because if you would have injured yourself beyond repair, Yuri, I don’t think I could ever…”

He could never forgive himself. Yuri’s heart sinks into his stomach, and he crouches onto the shower floor so he is at Victor’s level. Tears streak down Victor’s face, and Yuri is finding it hard to forgive himself for making Victor cry, twice in one week, at that. He cups Victor’s cheeks, trying to hold the weight of the desperation leaking from Victor’s eyes.

“I promise,” he whispers, thumbing at Victor’s cheeks. The tears don’t stop. “I promise, Vitya.”

Victor manages a sad smile, still crying though he tries to stop his tears. His chest heaves and he sniffles, his lip trembling for all he is worth. “I’m sorry for crying; I know you don’t like it when I do,” he apologizes.

“Idiot,” Yuri whispers, hugging him close. “It’s my fault that you’re crying.”

Victor hugs him back tightly, his breathing ragged and shallow. “I love you, Yura.”

Yuri tries to answer, but all that he can stutter out is, “I-I…”

Victor meets him halfway as always, turning it into a question that Yuri is able to answer. “Do you love me, Yura?”

Yuri buries his face in Victor’s shoulder, grateful for his perpetual understanding. “ _Yes_.”


	16. Pale Descent

It is a comfort to watch them skate. He no longer feels guilty for holding them back as he watches them glide across the ice, practicing their routines. He can sit and stretch, bring them their water bottles. He is allowed light cardio. He feels weightless, without the burden of keeping them at home with him.

He wanders from the rink in the afternoon. He walks down the streets he's known for years, but he sees them through different eyes. So much has changed since he came to skate under Yakov. And it has changed for the better, he concludes.

The pizza place, the drug store. He walks past them without a second thought. The storefront he pauses in front of is the hair salon, staring at his own reflection in the glass. His hair is long, almost as long as Victor's was in his junior years. He catches a strand between his thumb and forefinger, locking eyes with himself.

Why did Victor cut his hair? Yuri never asked him. Maybe he felt that he was getting older, moving on to the senior division. Maybe he needed change. Maybe, he just wanted to get a haircut and there was no meaning at all.

Yuri is still fragile and waif-like, but he doesn't fit the bill of the Russian Fairy any longer. What if he cuts it all off? Will he look older, more masculine? Will it fit him, or will he look out of place? Yuri finds himself walking into the salon.

“What can I do for you, sweetie?”

Yuri tells her that he wants a haircut, and he is led to her chair. Smiling sadly, the woman flounces out his hair, running her fingers through it. Yuri wets his lips, staring at his reflection. No, the long hair doesn't fit him. He isn't Victor.

“Just a trim?”

Yuri finds himself shaking his head. “No, I want to cut it short.”

She pouts, ruffling his locks once more. “But darling, didn't it take you a while to grow it out? Are you really sure about this?”

“Yes. I'm sure.” 

He tries not to wince at the sound the scissors make, sending his golden locks to the floor.

He doesn't go straight back to the rink. He stops at the drug store, and he spends too long in front of the mirror near the eye glasses. There's a scar on his head, from where the dissolvable stitches have already faded. He can see it now, clear as day. They had only shaved underneath his hair to fix his wound, so it wasn't visible before. Now, with one side of his head shaven down, the pink line is prominent.

The other side of his head is longer, but not by too much. An undercut, that was what the beautician had called it. It makes Yuri look older, tougher. The scar on his head is a sign of what he's been through. It takes him another ten minutes before he is able to drag himself from the store. But he doesn't go back to the rink.

“Why didn't you text us and tell us you were coming home, Yur-” Yuuri freezes in the doorway to the apartment, Victor bumping into him accidentally from the sudden hold up.

“Your hair, Yura,” Victor gasps, the older pair still frozen in the doorway.

“What about it?” Yuri snaps, glancing up from the couch. Potya stirs in his lap, but settles back down almost instantly.

“You…” Yuuri takes a deep breath, clearly attempting to choose his words carefully. “It's just a shock. We weren't expecting it.”

They finally enter the apartment, the door shutting quietly behind them. Yuri is surrounded by them instantly, Victor sitting to his left and Yuuri to his right. “Why did you cut it?” Victor finally addresses the elephant in the room.

“Why did you cut yours?” Yuri shoots back without hesitation.

Victor is silent for a moment. He clears his throat before speaking. “Lilia and Yakov were in the process of breaking up, then. Lilia wanted me to keep it long and Yakov wanted me to cut it. Yakov won the argument.”

Yuri exhales, stroking Potya’s fur. “You didn't even get to decide?”

Victor shakes his head solemnly. “No,” he whispers.

“I'm sorry,” Yuri murmurs.

Victor touches his cheek lightly, cupping it as he shakes his head. “Will you tell us why you cut your hair, Yura?”

Yuri shrugs, sighing. “Long hair doesn't fit me anymore. I wanted a change.”

“You look handsome,” Yuuri offers belatedly.

The words make Yuri's heart swell, and he can't stop the smile that plays at his lips. “Thanks.”

“He's right,” Victor agrees. He presses a kiss to the shaven side of Yuri's head, smiling into the touch. “I'm sorry we didn't say that from the start, we were just… shocked.”

“I'm sorry I didn't text you and tell you I was coming home,” Yuri counters.

Yuuri sighs with relief, kissing Yuri's cheek. “Victor said we're taking a trip to Japan together,” he muses, “did you happen to have anything to do with that?”

Yuri sucks in a breath, glancing up at Victor. He is met with a reassuring smile. “I told Yakov we're going. You can't skate for a bit longer, and Yuuri and I can train at the ice castle. We'll make happy memories together, yes?”

Yuri smiles, nodding. “When are we going?”

“In a few days,” Victor murmurs, moving his hand to the small of Yuri's back. He rubs gently, a silent comfort. “That's okay with you?”

“Of course.” He reaches out to Yuuri, clasping their hands together. “You're not mad at me for telling him what you said?”

Yuuri chuckles, shifting closer to Yuri. “No, I'm not mad. I'm happy that you care about me enough to tell our Vitya, so he can help.”

Victor smiles at that, kissing both of their heads before moving from the couch. “I'm going to go shower, loves.”

Yuuri leans his head on Yuri's shoulder as Victor leaves the room, sighing softly. “I'm a little nervous,” Yuuri admits.

Yuri rests his head against Yuuri's, whispering, “we'll be right there with you.”

Yuuri chuckles softly. “I know,” he muses. “That's what is keeping me from being completely nervous. I always feel safer with the two of you.”


	17. Tremors

On the plane, Yuri reaches for Yuuri's hand on the armrest as soon as the pilot announces take off. Yuuri smiles at him gratefully as Victor takes his other hand, visibly relaxing. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he grips their hands tightly.

On the flight to Moscow, Yuuri was fine after they got into the air. Today, however, he keeps a hold of Yuri and Victor’s hands, even after they are safely in the air. Yuri frowns, realizing how stiffly Yuuri is sitting. He keeps quiet, however, until he notices Victor’s head dipping closer and closer to Yuuri’s shoulder. The oldest man has fallen asleep.

“You still seem nervous,” Yuri points out, almost conversationally.

Yuuri nods, sighing. “I am nervous.”

“To be at home?”

Yuuri nods, chuckling softly. “To see Mama and Mari, too.”

Yuri thumbs at Yuuri’s hand softly, nodding. “I’m sure they miss you.”

Yuuri locks eyes with Yuri, and it’s only then that Yuri notices how wet those chocolate orbs have become. “I feel bad, for leaving them all alone without my dad there. And even if they needed me home… they would never tell me. They are selfless, like that.”

Yuri smiles, using his free hand to cup Yuuri’s cheek. “So _that’s_ where you get it from, then.”

Yuuri’s eyes soften, and his bottom lip starts to tremble the slightest bit. “You’re going to make me cry on an airplane,” he whispers hoarsely.

Yuri leans forward, pressing their foreheads together with his hand still cupping Yuuri’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, brushing their lips in a feather-like touch. “Forgive me?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri breathes, slotting their lips together once more. They kiss slow and careful, hidden by the way Yuuri has turned in towards the window seat. They’re in no rush, and Yuri relishes in every second that Yuuri’s warm lips move against his. 

“Do you feel better now?” Yuri asks when their lips part.

“I feel better,” Yuuri assures him. 

“Good,” Yuri murmurs. He pulls away enough to lean back in his seat, patting his shoulder. “Rest, okay?”

Yuuri leans on Yuri’s shoulder and shuts his eyes, but he doesn’t fall asleep. Yuri knows he is pretending to be for his sake, keeping his breathing steady and his eyes closed. Yuri plays along, using one hand to pet Yuuri’s hair and the other to card through Victor’s. After a while, however, Yuri finds himself smirking. He presses his lips to Yuuri’s hair, kissing him sweetly.

“You’re not very good at pretending to sleep,” he teases.

Yuuri smiles, his eyes still closed. “You caught me,” he murmurs. “I am resting, though. We can’t all fall asleep anywhere and everywhere like Vitya.”

Yuri smiles, rewarding Yuuri with another kiss. “At least he isn’t snoring,” he jokes.

Yuuri hums, nuzzling against Yuri’s shoulder. “I might be, soon. You’re really comfy.”

“Good,” Yuri murmurs, resting his head on top of Yuuri’s. “Sleep, if you can.”

Yuri ends up falling asleep, himself.

The taxi ride from the airport to the onsen is a tense one. Yuuri’s breathing is shallow and scared the entire time, and his body trembles. No amount of touches or reassurances from Victor and Yuri seem to change his demeanor, but the Russians don’t give up. They shower Yuuri in affection and kind words, although Yuuri seems to sink into himself as they pull up in front of the inn. 

“Yuuri!” 

His mother launches herself into Yuuri’s arms, speaking in fast and unintelligible Japanese as they walk through the front door. Yuri knows that Yuuri is nervous and emotional, but he doesn’t expect him to completely break down that unfolds. He begins to cry, clinging to his mother as Mari approaches them.

“Welcome back,” she greets them quietly before kissing her brother’s head and rubbing his back gently. She whispers something to him in Japanese before motioning for Victor and Yuri to follow her. She leads them down the hall, sighing softly as they approach a room. “Mama has been a mess since Dad died,” she explains. “I think they’re going to need a moment.” 

“Of course,” Victor agrees. He reaches out without hesitation as they enter the room, placing a hand on her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

Mari smiles at him, taking a cigarette from her pocket and placing it between her lips. “I’ll be okay,” she assures him. She lights the cigarette, looking Yuri up and down. “You’ve grown up, Yurio,” she tells him.

Yuri, minding his manners, doesn’t mention her calling him by that awful nickname. Instead, he mutters, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” she whispers. Smoke fills Yuri’s nose as she excuses herself, moving toward the door. “You guys get settled, okay? Yuuri will join you soon, I’m sure.”

Victor’s arms are around Yuri the second the door shuts behind her. “It breaks my heart, to see him so upset,” he murmurs onto Yuri’s scalp.

“Me too,” Yuri admits hoarsely. Fear washes over him, and he inhales sharply. “Do you think… it was a bad idea, to come here? Will it upset him more, being here?”

Victor pulls him in tighter, rocking him gently where they stand. “This is what he wanted, Yura. He wanted to come here. And yes, it will upset him. But it will also help him to heal.” He pulls back, locking eyes with Yuri. Smiling softly, he brushes back a lock of hair on the side where Yuri still has some. “We will help him to heal, my Yura.”

Yuri nods resolutely, craning his neck up to kiss Victor’s cheek. It makes his cheeks flush, and his eyes soften as he stares at Yuri. Yuri smiles at the reaction, pressing his lips to Victor’s face again, this time, to the corner of his mouth. “You’re blushing,” he whispers as he pulls away.

Victor nods, tilting his head. “I guess I am. You’re good at making me blush, Yura.”

Now it’s Yuri’s turn for heated cheeks. He averts his eyes the slightest bit, suddenly embarrassed for no good reason. “I guess so…”

Victor opens his mouth to speak once more as Yuri glances back, but is cut off by the door opening. Victor and Yuri both turn in unison, frowning and pulling away from each other. Looking at the forlorn man in front of them, Yuri feels his lip beginning to tremble. it is Victor who manages,

“Oh, Yuuri.”


	18. Homecoming

“Oh, Yuuri.”

Yuuri wipes away the tears that have stained his face, though more continue to fall. While Victor is quicker with his words, Yuri prides himself in being quicker with his actions. He rushes to the doorway, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist. A gasp sounds close to his ear, and Yuuri is broken once again.

“It’s okay,” Yuri encourages him, pulling him further into the room. Victor gets mind to join them across the room, shutting the door behind them before joining their embrace. “You’re okay,” Yuri whispers against Yuuri’s neck. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri whimpers. “I know I said I wanted to come back, but it’s just so hard to be here and know that he isn’t here.”

“We know, it’s okay,” Yuri whispers. “It’s okay to be upset.” 

“We’re right here, Yuuri. Let it out, you’re okay.”

“I feel so guilty for leaving her; she needed me.”

Victor shakes his head, kissing the top of Yuuri’s. “Love, we can stay as long as you want to. As long as you _need_ to.”

“Don’t feel guilty, Yuuri. You shouldn’t feel guilty.” Yuri feels a lump growing in his throat, one that he can't quite manage to swallow. Tears burn behind his eyes and he struggles to keep his composure.

Yuuri raises his head enough to lock eyes with Yuri, lip trembling as tears continue to streak his face. “I want to be strong, Yuri.”

Yuri breaks completely. Hot tears trail down his cheeks and he struggles to take in a breathe. “Shut up!” He hisses, beginning to sob. “I fucking told you that you’re strong!”

“Yura,” Victor warns, but Yuuri shakes his head as if to shush him.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Yur-”

“You’re strong!” Yuri clings to Yuuri, body shaking as he struggles to assert himself. “This doesn’t make you weak,” Yuri pleads.

“Yura,” Victor whispers, softer. “Come on, both of you. Let’s sit down on the bed together; let’s decompress.”

He holds them both so close, they are practically in his lap. He alternates whose head he kisses, rubbing their shoulders carefully. “I… I wish I could make you see how strong you really are,” Yuri grits out.

Victor sighs, beginning to rock them both gently. “Let it out, both of you. It's okay. You'll feel better after.”

Yuuri reaches across Victor's body for Yuri's hands, holding onto both of them tightly. He laces their fingers together as tears streak his face, his head leaning on Victor's shoulder whilst Yuri's rests on the other. They cry for a while, but Yuri doesn't know how long. Eventually, his eyes feel swollen and his head aches. His eyelids refuse to stay open for more than a few seconds.

Yuuri is faced with obvious exhaustion, as well. Yuri mumbles sleepily as Victor helps them both to lie down on the bed, intertwined in each other's arms. Yuri is in a state of paralysis as Victor whispers, “rest, my loves. I'll be right down the hall if you need me.” Yuuri holds onto Yuri even tighter.

Yuri doesn't remember drifting off, but he soon wakes. It's dark,and Victor still hasn't come back. Yuuri is still tangled with him, arms and legs intertwined in ways Yuri didn't know was possible. Gently, Yuri untangles his arm enough to brush Yuuri's cheek with the back of his hand.

“Yuuri, wake up.”

He stirs, eyes blinking open. “Where-” his eyes open wider, and he glances around the room. He finally hums, nodding. Sheepishly, he moves his hand to cup Yuri's cheek. “Sorry about before, Yuri.”

Yuri shakes his head, tangling his fingers in Yuuri's hair and rubbing his scalp gently. “Do you feel better now?”

Yuuri nods, pressing their lips together. As he pulls away, he chuckles softly. “Vitya was right, I feel better after crying.”

There is a knock on the door, and Yuuri untangles himself with a grunt. He pads across the room and opens the door enough that Yuri can see his mother, and smell a familiar dish wafting through the air. After a short exchange in Japanese, Yuuri turns and motions Yuri out of bed. 

“Mama made katsudon,” he explains.

Victor is sitting at the low table when they enter, and he pats the pillows on either side of him. Yuuri sits on one side of him and Yuri on the other, and Yuri watches as Victor places a kiss on Yuuri's cheek, asking him how he's feeling. Yuri can't help the few seconds of burning jealousy that he endures, eyes burning as he realizes that this is going to be his life for the duration of their stay. The Katsuki’s don't know that they are all together, and so they have to treat Yuri as if-

Victor's lips touch his cheek, warm and gentle. Yuri blinks- once, twice. His cheeks are burning. Victor stares inquisitively, asking, “and you? Are you feeling better, as well?”

Yuri can't move, he can't speak. Mari and Yuuri's mother don't react, they don't say anything. Yuuri's mom continues to place down bowls of food, and Mari sips her tea, disinterested. Yuri lets out a shaking breath, realizing that Victor was always handsy, and they probably wouldn't think anything of his casual affection. Victor is still staring, expectant, and his eyebrows knit with worry.

“Are you o-”

“I'm feeling better,” Yuri manages softly. “Sorry,” he adds. “I was spacing out.”

Victor reached down and gives his hand a knowing squeeze under the table. “They won't think anything of it,” he murmurs in Russian. “But if you don't want me to, then I-”

“I want you to,” Yuri assures him in their native tongue. He can't help the blush that spreads over his cheeks at his own admission.

Victor smiles, squeezing Yuri's hand again before reaching up to bring his own hands together, as if to pray. Yuri sees Mari and Yuuri's mother assume the same position, and Yuuri, as well. Yuuri smiles at him with twinkling eyes as Yuri follows suit. 

“ _Itadakimasu!_ ”


	19. Difference

Yuri never found public baths to be relaxing, but after his first stay in Japan, that changed. It had been strange to bathe with others, at the time, _especially_ with Yuuri and Victor. Victor's “stretching” by the onsen had made Yuri grow red up to his ears and hard as a rock. He'd had to draw his knees up to his chest and will the erection away before the older men noticed.

Tonight, they are alone in the bathing area. Inside, Yuuri sits them on stools so they can wash. They are in blissful solitude, and Victor insists on partaking in the Japanese custom of washing each other's backs. However, he also insists on washing each other fully. So, Victor washes Yuuri, Yuuri washes Yuri, and Yuri washes Victor. 

The touches Yuri both gives and recieves are much too intimate to be for bathing. He massages Victor's shoulders as he scrubs him with soap, just as Yuuri had done to him. Victor hums quietly, eyes falling shut as he relaxes. “That feels good, Yura,” he murmurs.

“Good,” Yuri whispers breathily, close to Victor's ear.

“Yura,” Victor chastises lightly, “this modesty towel isn't going to hide the erection I'll get if you keep whispering in my ear like that.”

Yuri flushes, receiving an amused smirk from Yuuri. The Japanese man reaches out and runs his fingers through the longer side of Yuri's hair. “You're embarrassing him, Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs.

Yuri swallows hard, shaking his head. “I'm okay.” He does add, however, “can we rinse off and get into the water?”

They do just that. It's as empty in the springs as in the washing area, and Yuri gladly slips into the water with his nude companions. Yuuri's head lolls back immediately, resting on the stone behind them. “I always miss this,” he sighs.

Victor hums in agreement, tilting his head back as he brings his hand to Yuri's thigh. “It is very relaxing.”

“You like the springs now, Yuri?” Yuuri asks him conversationally.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, shifting closer to Victor. His hand is jerked further up Yuri's thigh from the movement, but neither man attempts to change their new positioning.

Victor's close proximity and the heat of the water gets Yuri's blood flowing, and soon enough, he has a throbbing erection. He knows that the density of the water is making it malleable, and he knows that it has swiped Victor's hand more than once. Just as embarrassment begins creeping up and Yuri is about to shift away, Victor squeezes his thigh gently.

“There's no one else here, it's very late. If you want, I can sit you up here,” Victor motions behind them, “and take care of you.”

Yuri blushes, eyes widening as Yuuri looks down into the water. His face softens with understanding, and he nods. “Vitya’s right, no one will walk in. Even Mama and Mari are asleep.”

Yuri ponders for a moment, finally nodding. Victor's strong hands lift him under the arms, placing him up on the edge of the spring and exposing him completely. He finds himself blushing as the cool air contrasts the heat of the water, and he shrinks down to a semi. Victor, kind and gentle as always, lifts Yuuri out of the spring in the same manner, placing him next to Yuri.

“It's okay,” Yuuri murmurs, “mine's shrunk too.”

Yuri steals a glance down, and Yuuri is correct. His flaccid cock is clearly cold, hiding inside his foreskin. Yuuri places his arm around Yuri's waist and thumbs his hipbone, leaning his face in towards the younger man's. A few gentle, subsequent kisses meet Yuri's lips, just as Victor's hand wraps around his cock. He can't help but groan into the kiss, his cock getting back to full mast in record time.

Victor strokes him languidly, kissing at Yuri's thighs, just above the knee. “Yura,” Victor whispers against his damp skin, “would it be okay if I used my mouth?”

Yuri moans at the words alone, pulling his lips from Yuuri's. The thought alone of Victor’s mouth on him almost makes him blow his load. He nods frantically, gasping against Yuuri’s lips, “please, Vitya.” 

Yuuri chuckles, kissing him more forcefully. “You’re so eager, sweetheart.”

 _Sweetheart_. Never in his sixteen years has Yuri ever expected to like a pet name as sappy as that, but he finds himself glowing. It’s only a second later that Yuri feels a warm stripe being licked from his balls all the way up to the head of his cock, and he shudders with a muffled moan. Victor licks him again, another teasing touch that makes him buck his hips for more. Gently, Yuuri holds him in place with the hand that teases his hip bone.

“You like it?” Yuuri whispers hotly in his ear.

All Yuri can do is nod, biting his lip hard enough to bleed as Victor finally engulfs his cock. The wet heat is overwhelming; it feels as if Victor might swallow him whole. He takes Yuri deep, nearly every inch of his girth. Yuri gasps and tries his best not to cant his hips, only succeeding with Yuuri’s assistance. 

“Vitya,” Yuri moans unchastely, “it feels so good.”

Victor hums around Yuri’s dick in response, sending shooting pangs of arousal through his entire being. His gut is coiling already, unable to stand the way Victor’s mouth works him as if he was born to do so. He can feel his cock twitching inside Victor’s mouth, but he is too caught up in how good it feels to be embarrassed. His orgasm is barrelling closer, and Yuri almost feels faint.

“V-Victor, get off, I’m going to-”

“He’ll take it in his mouth,” whispers Yuuri’s voice in his ear, and that is what pushes Yuri over the edge.

“Oh my god,” he moans as he spills into Victor’s mouth. He struggles to keep his eyes open, just to watch the older man. Victor’s eyes are shut, his face blissful. Yuri watches as he continues to bob his head with hollowed cheeks, taking all that Yuri has to give him and then swallowing it down.

He shudders as Victor pulls off his softening member, oversensitive with his skin on fire. “Victor,” he whispers his name as he licks his lips, gathering any excess mess and swallowing that, as well. “Thank you.”

Victor smiles, nuzzling against Yuri’s thigh before pressing a kiss to the soft skin there. “I could watch you come apart like that all day,” he informs Yuri. It causes a blush to rise on his cheeks, but he stays otherwise composed. Victor turns his attention to Yuuri, then, chuckling softly. “You really liked watching that, didn’t you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nods sheepishly as Yuri looks down, eyes training on Yuuri’s rock-hard member. “I liked it, yeah,” he agrees.

Victor shifts in the water, moving to the front of Yuuri. “Yura, would it be okay if I took care of Yuuri now, or should I take him somewhere private later on? I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

Swallowing hard, Yuri felt his spent cock twitching with interest again. “Please, let me watch.”


	20. Katsudon Pirozhki

He’s never seen them together before. Sure, he had seen them making out against the living room wall, but he’d never seen them _like this_. Yuuri splayed out, legs spread with Victor between them. Head thrown back and eyes shut as Victor lewdly licks a bead of pre-come from the tip of his prick. Yuuri sighs softly, reaching for Yuri and lacing their fingers together as Victor envelops him fully.

“Oh, Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs. “That feels nice.”

Yuri hesitantly lets his free hand drift to Yuuri's chest, brushing his fingers over Yuuri's left nipple. “Yuuri, can I..?”

Yuuri nods while wetting his lips, rocking his hips into Victor's mouth as Yuri grasps the nub between his thumb and forefinger. Yuuri moans at the touch, nodding. “You can be rough, Yuri. You won't hurt me.”

Yuri squeezes the pert nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He watches Victor's head bobbing with great interest, not too distracted to watch his method, this time. Victor bobs his head, cheeks hollowed and expression relaxed. He occasionally pulls back and sucks the head of Yuuri’s cock, or pulls the foreskin as far back as it will go in order to lick the underside of him. Yuri watches, taking mental notes as he works Yuuri’s nipple with his fingers.

The sounds Yuuri makes are amazing- he is unashamed and guttural, laying himself out for the other men to see. His breathing grows tighter by the second, shallow inhales that sound more like gasps and moans. “Vitya, I’m going to come,” Yuuri whimpers.

Yuuri’s voice cracks when he climaxes, hips twitching and body shuddering as he comes down Victor’s throat. Yuri watches as the oldest man takes it all easily, still working Yuuri through his release. Eventually, Yuuri’s free hand finds Victor’s head, guiding him off his member. Yuri removes his hand from Yuuri’s chest, and Victor licks his lips and cocks his head to the side, waiting for words of approval. 

“That was amazing, Victor,” Yuuri breathes, still panting.

Victor grins, placing a hand on each of his lover’s thighs. “Now that you two are taken care of, are you sleepy?” Yuri shakes his head, watching as Yuuri mimics the motion. Victor chuckles, nodding. “I didn’t think so, between the jet lag and your nap.” he pauses a moment before patting their thighs, standing up and exiting the spring. “I’m glad, though. I have plans for us tonight.”

“Plans?”

Victor only grins at Yuri, shrugging. “Let’s go get dressed.”

It’s dark at the beach, and the only sound is the crashing of the waves against the shore. Yuri and Yuuri are led by the hand down to the center of the beach, just close enough that Yuri can make out the reflection of the moon shining down on the water. Victor lays down the blanket he’d brought, settling down on it and pulling his lovers down with him.

It’s chilly, by the shore, but Yuri can’t help but feel warm while being held so close to Victor. His heart tingles in his chest as they sit in silence, nothing but the waves keeping them grounded. Taking a deep breath, Yuri leans up and presses a kiss to Victor’s cheek. He is rewarded with a soft smile, the glint of Victor’s teeth showing in the dark. 

“Thank you,” Victor whispers.

“Don’t thank me for kissing you, idiot,” Yuri whispers back.

Yuuri chuckles from the other side of Victor, reaching around his back to rest a hand on the small of Yuri’s. “Can I thank you for telling Vitya I wanted to come, so that we could visit? Or is that not allowed either, Pirozhki?”

Yuri scoffs, leaning in to rest his head on Victor’s shoulder. “That’s not allowed either. Of course I wanted you to be able to visit- why wouldn’t I?”

Yuuri rubs his hand along Yuri’s back, squeezing his side softly. “Thank you, Yuri,” he whispers defiantly.

“Listen here, Katsu-”

“Hey,” Victor murmurs suddenly, barely audible against the waves. “I got you both something.”

“Vitya?” Yuuri questions, but Victor is already untangling himself and reaching into his pockets.

“Shut your eyes,” he requests.

Yuri obeys, eyes fluttering shut. He hears movement to his right, Victor shuffling and tending to Yuuri first. A moment later, there is something small and weighted knocking against his collarbone, and then something cold hanging from his neck. After settling back down, Victor murmurs,

“Open them.”

Yuri’s hand falls to the pendant at his neck as soon as his eyes open. The flashlight on Victor’s phone is suddenly illuminating the three of them, and he smiles as he sees the charm settled on his chest. “It’s a pirozhki,” he whispers, staring down at it.

“Mine is a bowl of katsudon,” Yuuri whispers. 

“Read the inscriptions on the back,” Victor requests.

Yuuri and Victor both look at Yuri expectantly, so he takes a deep breath and flips the pendant. “For my Yura; always be brave, never be afraid.”

He swallows hard, locking eyes with Victor before turning his head to Yuuri. Yuuri sucks in a sharp breath before reading aloud, “For my Yuuri; always be strong, never be discouraged.”

There is a moment of silence before Yuri whispers, “It’s because I always say I’m not afraid when I am, and Yuuri says he isn’t strong though he is; isn’t it?”

“That’s exactly it,” Victor murmurs, pulling them both close again. A kiss is pressed to both of their heads, and Victor sighs deeply. “I thought you might both like a reminder.”

“Thank you, Vitya,” Yuri murmurs.

“Thank you,” Yuuri echoes, a kiss sounding as he leans in for Victor’s cheek.

The waves crashing fill their ears once more, Victor’s warmth seeping into Yuri as he turns the flashlight back off, leaving them in blissful darkness. The waves are loud and almost dizzying, and Yuri’s hand doesn’t leave his new pendant. He fingers the cool metal carefully, leaning in enough that the smell of sandalwood and sea salt fills his nose. The scent of Victor’s cologne blends with the salt of the sea, and soon enough, Yuri can’t distinguish the two.

“Hey, guys?” He whispers, staring at the pale yellow of the moon on the ocean’s horizon.

“Hmm?”

“Yes, Yura?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Yuri chews on his lip. Eventually, he tries again. “Yuuri… Victor…”

Victor’s arm tightens around Yuri, giving him the strength to continue. His fingers grip the pendant tightly; always be brave, never be afraid. He swallows every ounce of fear bubbling up inside of him.

“ _I love you._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it <3


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